


Confession

by lpfan503



Series: Confession Series [1]
Category: Linkin Park
Genre: Affairs, Angst, Fluff, M/M, Secrets, bennoda
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-11-18
Updated: 2018-03-04
Packaged: 2019-02-03 22:56:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 60
Words: 188,340
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12757836
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lpfan503/pseuds/lpfan503
Summary: What started innocently 10 years ago has spiraled into something out of Mike's control, and the secrecy is threatening the security of his relationships both within and outside of the band. Bennoda, with a side of Mike angst!





	1. I can't sleep.

The last thing Mike did before laying down was unlock the door that connected to Chester’s room. 

It was already as cold as he could make it inside the room, the digital thermostat reading 69.5. He knew it wasn’t 69.5 degrees in the room, but the setting would ensure that the air ran all night. It was impossible for him to sleep without moving air. It was impossible for him to sleep without Chester.

Tossing his robe on a chair next to the bed, Mike sat on the edge and looked around. _I wonder if he will come to me tonight. He knows I can’t sleep anymore without him next to me. God, we are so fucked up._

Falling back, Mike crossed a arm miserably over his eyes and wondered how they had gotten to this place. It had all started innocently enough, falling asleep together in his room one night during the first Minutes to Midnight European tour, waking up with Chester snuggled tightly next to his side, his face utterly peaceful when Mike looked down at him, surprised. He remembered tracing a fingertip over Chester’s nose and feeling the corners of his lips tip up in a smile, feeling the shock of discovering Chester next to him fading away. _He looked so much younger then. We’ve gotten old. Kids. Responsibilities. Wives._

Mike scrunched his eyes underneath the weight of his arm, wishing he could go back to that first morning. Chester’s body next to him had tensed for a moment as he awoke, stretching lightly before his breath caught and he opened his eyes.

_“Hey,” Chester had breathed softly as he looked up into Mike’s eyes. The subtle sparkle on Chester’s face confused Mike, he didn’t know what to say. As it turned out, it didn’t matter._

__

_Just before the silence stretched into awkwardness, Chester untangled his leg from Mike’s and playfully slapped Mike’s stomach. “Let’s go eat! I’m starving!”_

__

_With that he’d jumped up and headed back to his room, his t-shirt wrinkled from sleep and pajama pants hanging low on his hips without his belt. Mike stared after him, with the strangest feeling in the pit of his stomach. What was that low ache? It didn’t feel like hunger. Not the kind eating would fix, anyway._

If only he could go back, he would have laughed the whole thing off like Chester, and maybe things would be different now. Maybe he wouldn’t be so dependent on the predictability of sleeping next to someone he loved every night. Maybe he would have only ever cared for Chester as a friend, a brother. Never anything more.

Turning his tired body to the side, Mike reach for a pillow and pulled it close. It was a poor substitute for Chester’s warmth, but they were trying… trying to break what had become a comforting habit, and Mike’s favorite part of being on tour, before it ended and they went back to their families. _It’s so much easier for him,_ Mike thought bitterly. _He doesn’t feel the way I do. He will never feel the way I do. It’s been almost ten years. Ten years waking up next to him and pretending all I’ve gotten out of having him close is a good night’s sleep._

After all, it had been Chester who carefully suggested that maybe it was time that their nighttime cuddles came to an end. It was a mid-life sense of responsibility that had suddenly crept up in Chester’s consciousness, Mike supposed. How else to explain the sudden change of heart, the hesitantly presented conversation over this morning’s coffee, a piece of bacon halfway to Mike’s mouth. He’d let the hand drop to the table before he realized it, Chester’s eyes skipping guiltily away from his and looking out the window. Mike had swallowed hard before forcing a smile, and touching the back of Chester’s hand with his fingertip, agreed they should start getting ready to return home. Return to reality. Never before had they thought to prepare for the loss early, and to Mike it seemed like a forever ending instead of a temporary one. 

The rest of the day passed in a haze for Mike, and after the performance Chester was strangely subdued, leaning back in the seat of the van with his eyes closed, blocking out everyone around him, especially Mike. They had shared a moment on stage, voices interlocking in perfect harmony during Papercut, arms slung across each other and staring out into the crowd. As the outro ended and Chester stepped back, his hand had slipped down Mikes back and squeezed his ass so lightly and quickly that Mike thought he’d imagined it. He turned and caught Chester’s eyes for a moment, a smirk across his face. _What was that for? Just Chester being Chester? Yeah, that’s it, and that’s all._ Turning away, Mike made his way to the keyboard and set his mic in the stand. _Now, what song is next?_

And then they were at the hotel, and Mike dreaded the rest of the evening. Chester had ended their… what was it? Was there a name for what they had? Mike had shaken his head and slipped the keycard into the slot, Chester doing the same at the next room over.

“Mike?”

Startled, Mike turned his face to find Chester’s gaze, reading the sorrow in his features immediately. “Yeah, Ches?”

A long silence passed between them before Chester said, “good night.”

Turning back to the door, Mike closed his eyes against the wave of pain that crashed over him. Chester’s words dripped finality. Nodding his head, Mike stepped into the room and shut the door, leaning heavily against it and trying to catch his breath. 

When he opened his eyes, the first thing he saw was another door. They still had connecting rooms. 

Mike’s heart had skipped a beat when he saw the door across from the bed earlier that evening. Now he lay miserably in the bed, alone, missing his friend. Missing the clean smell of his soap in the evening and his laughter as they watched cartoons in bed. Missing the way his breathing eventually slowed and he fell asleep on his back, snoring lightly. Missing how he would always scoot closer to Mike in the bed in his sleep, throwing an arm or a leg over him and snuggling in for the night, his warmth lulling Mike to sleep. He chanced a look at his phone. It was almost two am.

Rolling to the other side, Mike adjusted the pillow he was holding and sighed. He just wanted to sleep, and it was feeling impossible at the moment. Just as he was about to give up and flip on the television, Mike heard something: barely audible, the unmistakable sound of the turn of the lock on the door opposite of his. He held his breath and waited for his door to open for what felt like an eternity and then he heard Chester’s soft footsteps creeping toward him. He felt, rather than heard, the hesitation in Chester’s movements before he slowly pulled the sheets back and slid next to Mike, instantly heating the shared space. It was so dark Mike couldn’t see his face, but he knew Chester’s eyes were closed as he spoke quietly, his voice low and tight, “I can’t sleep.”

The sharp turn in Mike’s stomach left him breathless for a moment before he reached toward Chester blindly, barely touching his side with an outstretched hand. Chester was on the far edge of the bed, on his back, breathing slowly, carefully and controlled. 

His next words shocked Mike and left his mind spinning in all directions.

“Mike… I have a confession.”


	2. Ticklish

“Mike, I have a confession.”

Tension hung in the air like a wet blanket, heavy and dripping with anticipation. Mike held perfectly still, his arm outstretched, Chester’s skin just out of reach. _Confession? That sounds bad. How much worse can today get? Nothing can be worse than ending this. Are we ending this? Why is he here? He said this was over…_

Chester drew in a ragged breath and hesitated once more. One hand clenched under the sheets, the other crept across his side and reached for Mike’s. Mike felt Chester’s warm fingers curl around his hand and he turned, facing him, clutching his slim fingers in return. They were still an arms length apart but Mike felt the connection between them returning and the knot in his stomach loosening with the simple touch.

“Mike… I… I had a drink.”

Mike let out the breath he'd been holding in a rush. _That's it? I mean, that's not good but it's not as bad as it could have been._

Chester continued breathlessly, “I tried not to come tonight. I wanted to stay in my room and give you space and not confuse things-”

“Confuse things?” Mike interrupted. “Confuse what?”

But Chester kept talking, ignoring him. “I was in the bed and missing you and feeling so anxious and I got up and went to the mini bar and grabbed the rum and drank it in one gulp and then I just freaked out!” 

“Shhh, Ches, come here.” Mike tugged their entwined hands and Chester slid over, placing his cheek again Mike’s chest. He could feel the flush against his skin, Chester’s face burning with shame. “It's ok,” he breathed close to Chester’s ear, his lips almost touching the delicate pale lobe. “We'll make sure it doesn't happen again.”

They laid for a while in silence, fingers laced together on Mike’s stomach. _What can I say to make this better? Why did he need a drink, just because we weren’t together? Does he… does he need me close as much as I need him?_ Mike almost shook his head. _No, you idiot. He’s an alcoholic. He’s stressed. It has nothing to do with you. Everything is not about you. In fact, nothing is about you._

He was afraid to push Chester away again, to say or do the wrong thing. So he simply did nothing for a time, thoughts drifting away to the bacon he missed out on that morning, _yesterday morning,_ he corrected himself, the crispy deliciousness that ended when Chester had broken his heart. _It’s just bacon, Shinoda. Get over it._ But with bacon in mind, Mike’s free hand started to stroke its thumb along the waistband of Chester’s pajama pants. Chester's heartbeat, which had started to slow against Mike’s side, suddenly increased tempo. Oblivious to the palpitation, Mike continued to absently stroke the waistband of the pink polka dotted pants, and suddenly Chester pulled his linked hand away and placed it on Mike's wandering fingers. 

_Oh shit,_ thought Mike. _I was touching him. Stroking him. It was just my thumb! That’s it! Not even a real finger, oh God!_ “Ches?” He whispered in the darkness, just loud enough to be heard over the air conditioner. 

Chester didn’t respond. He simply lifted Mike’s hand to his lips, and hesitantly placed a kiss in the palm of Mike’s hand.

_Ahhh, shit…_

Mike squeezed his eyes shut and wished he could see Chester’s face in the darkness. Behind his eyelids, in his mind, Chester’s eyes were dark, bottomless, unreadable. Unreciprocating. Mike was terrified of how he felt toward the other man, the deep connection that had been forged almost twenty years ago and that had endured so much. The feelings that had become so confusing the past few years, as they had pushed and stretched each other musically, fighting like siblings at times, but always making each other smile by the end of the day. The tensions between them always broken by Chester’s goofiness, and Mike could only laugh at his antics with the love written all over his face, never said out loud. He opened his eyes and met the same blackness. _Why is this room so dark? There should be a nightlight-_

“Thank you for being my friend,” Chester’s whisper interrupted Mike’s thoughts, his lips still close to Mike’s palm. Mike could feel the words as much as he could hear them, sinking into his soul, twisting his stomach, pulling his thoughts back into negative territory. _Friend. Yeah, just your friend. Your friend you cuddle up to at night when you’re missing your wife._

But he whispered out loud, “of course, Ches. Always.” _I’m always here. Any time you need me. Always on your terms._

Chester snuggled in tighter, dropping Mike’s hand and wrapping his arm around Mike’s torso. The hand Chester dropped lay on his hip now, and Mike felt at odds with himself. _Was it ok to stroke him or not? WHAT DID THAT KISS MEAN? Knowing Chester, nothing. Just like that subtle ass grab. Just Chester being Chester. Come on, Mike, stop thinking about it. Go to sleep. Enjoy the rest of the last night of decent sleep you’re gonna get for a while._

After Chester dropped off to sleep, his breathing smoothing into slow, gentle puffs against Mike’s chest, Mike remembered something he’d said. Chester had said he didn’t want to confuse things. What things? Mike’s eyebrows knitted together as he mulled over the words. _What could he have meant? Maybe, since we haven’t even gone one night without sharing a bed, he didn’t want me to think he’d changed his mind about ending our sleeping arrangements. He didn’t want me to think he needed me. Or.. or… maybe he’s as confused about me as I am about him?_

Mike felt as miserable as he had before Chester slipped into his bed. How much longer could he stand lying to his best friend about how much he needed him? He knew Chester had no idea the love he felt for his best friend had long ago crossed the line into romantic love. Mike didn’t even know how or when it happened. He just knew he’d woken up one morning after a show in New Zealand, Chester’s arm slung over his waist, and the words hit him like a brick in the face. _I love you._ The words had tumbled around in Mike’s head as he looked down at a sleeping Chester, feeling completely refreshed and content. They’d had the day off, and all Mike could think about was how he wanted to stay in bed all day. With Chester. Because he loved him.

_It’s too much to think about right now, I’ll worry about it in the morning. I’ll ask him when I can see his face. Then I’ll know what’s confusing._

*****************************************************************

For once, Chester woke up first. The first thing he was aware of was the rise and fall of the skin under his cheek, his face resting against Mike’s chest. He took a deep breath, smelling Mike’s essence, and smiled, turning his nose to nuzzle the skin between Mike’s nipples. He absently wondered why Mike never took his shirt off on stage, when Chester knew he was ripped and had nothing in which to be ashamed. It was funny, really, how Chester was always half-naked in public but had to sleep in one of his many pairs of fuzzy pajamas, and Mike was always carefully concealed out in the world and slept only in boxers. Smiling to himself, Chester stretched both arms over his head, the movement waking Mike.

The first thing Mike was aware of was the warm, secure arm that had held him all night sliding away, leaving a rush of 69.5 degree air in it’s place. “Fuck, Chester, it’s cold! Where are the sheets?” Mike complained, feeling around for something to cover his body. _Chester is such a damn cover hog!_

A pillow smacked him in the face before he could find the comforter, and Mike was temporarily stunned as Chester’s laugh filtered through his sleepy brain. “Cover up with this pillow you were humping when I came to bed last night,” Chester said, teasing Mike and acting as if nothing out of the ordinary had happened hours before. Mike sat up in the bed, slung the pillow back at Chester, and then reached over, grabbing two flamed wrists before they could tickle him. 

“Oh no, you don’t” Mike exclaimed before trying to pin Chester’s hands over his head to stop the vocalist’s attack on him. Unfortunately for Mike, Chester’s reflexes were quicker, and before he knew what was happening, Chester had both hands in his armpits, digging at the sensitive flesh and leaving Mike breathless with laughter. Seconds passed, legs kicking, bodies twisting, tanned and tattooed skin mingling on white sheets, and Mike’s hands trying to swat Chester’s away unsuccessfully. Fortunately, the assault didn’t last long, and Chester fell to Mike’s side, laughing too, face shining with triumph.

“Fuck, Mikey, if I’d known I could overpower you so easily in the mornings there’s no way I’d have let you watch me sleep all those mornings!”

Mike’s laughter stopped abruptly as his breath froze and he looked at Chester, panic written all over his face. _Shit,_ he thought, _how does he know that?_ A wordless moment passed between their eyes before Chester calmly remarked, “I’m just messing with you, man. You ok?”

_No, I’m not ok!_ screamed Mike, frustrated. Without thinking, he blurted out, “what did you mean by not wanting to confuse things last night when you came in, Ches?” Instantly when the words were out, Mike wished he could stuff them back inside his big mouth. _Fuck._ He grabbed the pillow and sunk his face into it, hiding from Chester’s expressionless gaze. _I should have just told him I’d never spend my time staring at his monkey-butt face in the mornings. I should have pushed him off the bed._

“Mike,” Chester started before he swallowed, and looked away as Mike glanced at him from behind the pillow. “I don’t think… I don’t know what I meant. I wasn’t thinking last night. Clearly,” he swept a hand around the room, showing Mike he thought coming to him had been a mistake. “I just felt so stupid. How could one night away from you make me NEED a drink. I.. I missed you. And I’m sorry. I should have more control than that.”

Mike closed his eyes to hide the disappointment. _I knew it. Just a mistake. It’s always a mistake. I don’t mean anything to you. I’m just a warm body in the bed at night. I’m just the back up to your wife, just like I’m the back up to your voice. Always there, always supporting you, lost in the background. Don’t let him see your face until you can smile. Don’t you look at him right now!_

He heard Chester draw in a shaky breath, then felt the bed shift as he moved closer, placing a hand on Mike’s shoulder. He was close, Mike knew, and he knew Chester wanted him to look up. He just couldn’t.

The soft whisper cut through the room, straight to Mike’s heart, “it’s not fair to you.”

Mike’s head snapped up, his eyes locking with Chester’s, incredulous. _What’s not fair? Not fair??_ “What do you mean?” he whispered, strained. 

“I think we need some space… to sort things out…” Chester started, his expression still unreadable. Mike’s breath caught and, hanging on Chester’s words, hope started to bloom again in his chest. “There’s something else I need to tell you. I should have told you before, a while back, years even. I’m sorry… I should have stopped this a long time ago.”

Mike closed his eyes again, dreading whatever was coming.

“Mikey," Chester said slowly, "you talk in your sleep.”


	3. This is real.

“Mikey,” Chester said slowly, “you talk in your sleep.”

_What? I don’t talk in my sleep. Anna never said I talk in my sleep. Well… I guess I don’t spend that many nights with her. Mostly Chester. Chester. Oh, my God, what have I said?_

Mike didn’t think he could feel more exposed in this moment even if he were lying on the bed naked. Already there had been too many emotions this morning, and fear was settling in as he tried to think of what he could possibly be talking about in his sleep that would make Chester need space from him.

Unless.

_Unless I’ve been talking about him._

His empty stomach churned as he waited for Chester to speak again. Just as he was about to jump out of bed and run into the bathroom, Chester sighed and shifted uncomfortably until he was sitting cross legged, looking at Mike, no longer touching his shoulder. Mike felt the loss and the chill all over again, and reached around the pillows for the comforter. Drawing it over him, Mike waited.

Chester looked guilty. His eyes met with Mike’s, locked and held for a moment, then he looked away, fidgeting with the bracelet on his wrist before speaking, his voice low. “You started a few years ago, and at first it was just mumblings about the show, or frustrations with the kids, or Anna. Sometimes you were frustrated with me… I just let you talk it out, you know? You seemed to sleep better afterwards, and I… I just… wanted you to sleep better.” 

_Ok, that’s not so bad. I can be frustrated. I’m always frustrated._ Mike was desperately hoping that was it, but he knew it couldn’t be. There was no way Chester was finished. There was no way that was enough to make Chester want to be away from him. There had to be more.

“Sometimes I’d hold your hand, and you seemed to like that. I liked it too, I felt so close to you, Mikey.” Chester’s brows furrowed as he considered his next words. Mike thought about all the times they’d held hands, walking down the street, talking over dinner, under Chester’s blanket on the plane every time they took off… _It’s normal. It’s what we do. We’ve always held hands, because you hate flying. That’s how it started. So normal. Why do you look so worried?_

“Thanks, Ches. I guess that’s why I sleep so well when I’m with you. You’re taking care of me.” Mike reached for Chester’s hand then, and Chester met him halfway, looking down as their fingers laced together between them. Mike looked up and saw that Chester’s face had suddenly blushed a faint shade of pink, and immediately wondered if the idea of taking care of him was what had caused a reaction in Chester. 

“Mike… _Mikey,_ ” Chester paused, then his words came tumbling out in a rush as though he was afraid he might not get them out if he stopped. “One night, you were talking to me in your sleep and I could have sworn you were awake, but when I took your hand, you didn’t look at me and I knew, I knew you were sleeping. We’d just written some of _Roads Untraveled_ before we fell asleep after a show, it was so late it was early, you know? and I was laying there beside you, and you were mumbling about being lost, and I realized you were dreaming. We’d been sleeping together for years by then, and you’d never really talked about anything for very long, just a bit here and there,” Chester glanced up, pleading with his eyes for understanding, feeling guilty that he’d never mentioned this at all. 

Mike’s hand clenched and unclenched in the soft downiness of the pillow as his mind raced around, trying to remember what was going on during the making of Living Things, but just couldn’t seem to get everything into a neat Shinoda timeline. _Damn, I can’t remember anything! We both had babies then, I wasn’t sleeping much, I know. I remember when we tracked your vocals for Roads Untraveled, I remember staring at your face while you sang with your eyes closed, behind the glass, you sounded amazing, Chester. Did I tell you that then? I did, I know I did. And then we went out for Chinese food. And then went home. To sleep next to our wives._

“I remember I waited, to see if you’d find your way, and you said… you whispered, ‘Ches, I’m scared.’ And it broke my heart, you sounded so alone, but I was there, in your dream. And I was there beside you, so… I… I put my arms around you and told you I was there... I just wanted you to be ok!” Chester was trying to justify his actions, and didn’t leave any space between words for Mike to react. He squeezed Mike’s fingers as he continued, “and then… then you… you kissed me, Mike. You kissed me in your sleep.”

There it was. The confession. Still clutching Chester’s hand, Mike moved his other hand to cover his eyes as a sick feeling washed over him. He wasn’t sure he wanted to know what happened next. It didn’t matter if he wanted to know, Chester was going to tell him anyway.

“It was so sweet, Mikey… so sweet.” Chester’s voice was sounded far away, lost in the memory, tender and loving to Mike’s ears. “You were so soft, and it felt like everything stopped while you kissed me, it was beautiful and amazing and I didn’t want it to end. But it did, and I lay next to you, my arms around you, for the rest of the night, thinking about that kiss. You must have found your way back home,” Chester looked up and smiled softly as Mike peeked at him from behind his hand, “because you slept so well that night. You didn’t even move. And I couldn’t stop looking at you. I love the way your face is so relaxed when you’re beside me, sleeping.”

Mike was frozen, unsure what to say, terrified at the implications of his actions and what had happened in the years since. _Living Things was five years ago! FIVE!_ “Chester, why didn’t you tell me this sooner? God, it’s been five years since we made that album. I mean… _fuck._ You could have said something.” He ran the hand that had been covering his eyes through his hair, making a fluffier mess out of his bed hair. Chester thought he’d never looked so endearing.

“I didn’t know how you’d react that first time, and-”

“FIRST TIME?!” Mike exploded, yanking his hand from Chester’s and leaping up, tossing the pillow and comforter to the side and pacing next to the bed, too anxious now to sit any longer. “Ches, Chester, Jesus, the first time? How many times have there been?”

Now Chester was the anxious one, unsure whether he should continue on with this particular confession or not. He wasn’t innocent in all this, that much was certain. He looked at Mike with wide eyes, following the pacing back and forth, measuring his words carefully. “I… I don’t know, Mike. I stopped thinking about it after a few times, it’s not like it was every night, sometimes you’d go months, once it was even more than a year! I just… love being close to you... you make me feel needed. I was just so tired of being the one who needed you all the time, and you finally needed me. You needed me to sleep, to relax, to chase away the frustrations and the bad dreams… it felt so good to be on that side of things with you. Can’t you see that? I’ve been there to comfort you,” and suddenly Chester hesitated.

The pacing stopped and Mike turned to meet Chester’s eyes, a little bit fearful of what was coming next. The morning had spun out of his control so quickly, he didn’t even know how to start ordering everything. “Comfort,” Mike said slowly, turning the word over in his mind, thinking. “Comfort. You’ve comforted me. Chester,” he said, looking directly at him, “is there more to this?”

It was Chester’s turn to pace, from the other side of the bed, and Mike watched him, standing still. With just a few moment’s consideration, Chester decided the best course of action was to be blunt. “I’ve not stopped you, Mike, when you wanted me. I’ve kissed you, held your hand, touched your face, stroked your hair…” his voice caught, then he continued, “I’ve… let you touch me, too, and I know I should have stopped this, said something, not taken advantage. I didn’t realize it was really me that you wanted until _Carnivores,_ that was the first time… the first time…” Chester stopped and looked into Mike’s disbelieving eyes, breathing out, “the first time you said you loved me. Mike,” he said breathlessly, “you said you loved me. _Me._ I couldn’t believe it, can’t believe it. Me? Why? I’m so messed up, Mikey, how can you be in love with me?”

_Because, you’re Chester,_ Mike thought instantly, _who doesn’t love you?_ Mike closed his eyes, needing a break from the intensity of Chester’s gaze. _This is insane. I can’t believe this is happening. He knows. He knows what I want, he knows I love him, he’s kissed me and touched me and God knows what else and I can’t remember a damn thing! Who does that?_ He almost felt betrayed, but it was Chester, and he knew Chester would never do anything intentionally to hurt him. He took a deep breath and looked at Chester again, standing forlorn and unsure on the other side of the bed. 

He couldn’t help himself, firing words without thinking, “I can’t believe this, Chester. I can’t believe this has been going on and I didn’t even know. I… it’s not fair… I can’t even remember our first kiss and you have all these memories… why? Why didn’t you tell me?” Mike’s eyes were pleading, trying to make sense of what Chester had been saying, the undercurrent of emotion he felt in the room, the look in Chester’s eyes. _God, please… please let that look be what I think it is…_

Chester crossed the room, taking Mike’s troubled face in his hands, and Mike’s heart stopped beating. Everything in his world came to a complete stop as Chester leaned in, brushing his lips lightly across Mike’s, feathering a kiss so gentle Mike thought he had to be imagining it. _He’s kissing me. Chester is kissing me. Oh my God, we’re kissing._ “Mike… Mikey, look at me,” Chester breathed, his words sliding across Mike’s consciousness like chocolate syrup. _No, I can’t open my eyes. What if this is it, what if you never kiss me again? I want to remember this moment._ Instead, Mike pushed forward, hands on Chester’s hips, bringing their bodies closer together, pressing his lips more firmly against Chester’s softer, smaller ones, savoring the first kiss he could remember. _This is real. This is happening, this is really happening._ Breathless, sweet seconds passed before Mike felt Chester’s lips part under his own, surrendering his mouth for Mike to capture, Chester’s hands burying into Mike’s hair, their kiss still tender despite the possessive move. 

It became too much, and Mike reluctantly pulled away, resting his forehead against Chester’s, eyes still shut. _Well, what now? What does this all mean? Why did he tell me we couldn’t continue to sleep together, why does he think we need space?_ His voice was strained, breath coming harder than a few minutes earlier, before their life-changing kiss. “The space. To sort things out. What’s that about, Ches? Tell me what you’re thinking,” his voice almost pleading. Mike wasn’t sure, but he felt that just maybe, Chester _wanted_ to be close to him, wanted to kiss him, wanted him too… he needed to hear what Chester was thinking, to know if he wanted him too before his hopeful heart created a story that would never be written. 

He really didn’t want to know, fear bubbling in his stomach again, but Chester was never one to shy away from speaking the truth. “Mike, I love you. I’m in love with you. But… the kids. Our wives. We can’t just… walk away from all of that. I need some time to think, to figure this all out. I mean, what can we possibly do about any of this now?”

_Right,_ Mike thought miserably. _What are we going to do about this now?_ He stayed, forehead against Chester’s, hands on his hips, eyes closed, as he considered what might happen to them now that Chester had spoken their feelings aloud. _What are we going to do now?_


	4. 100 MPH

After several silent minutes passed, Mike challenged Chester’s question. “Why do we have to do anything? Why does anything have to change?” Mike’s hands tightened their grip on Chester’s hips, fearful that at any moment, Chester would pull away from him and leave. _Don’t go, don’t leave me. Not now… now that I know you feel the same way I do. Please don’t go!_

Chester sighed, turning his face into Mike’s neck and slipping his hands down from Mike’s hair, feathering circles on his back. Mike could feel the warm puffs of Chester’s breath near his collarbone, and he could swear he just felt soft, warm lips touching his neck. 

“Chester… we can just be how we’ve always been. Together. We’re together. They don’t have to understand. They don’t have to know. The guys. Anna… Tali… It can just be ours, Ches, the way it’s always been. Except now I’ll know, I’ll remember. Please…” Mike’s voice trailed off as he felt Chester pull away, and he drew a shaky breath, opening his eyes to see Chester sink down on the side of the bed.

The conflict on Chester’s face tore a hole in Mike’s heart. _I don’t understand! How can you kiss me and then push me away!_

Chester ran a hand over his face, grimacing for a moment before looking up into Mike’s eyes. “I just… think… I don’t know what I think. I mean, it’s not like everyone doesn’t know. Hell, even Jim must know, why would we always need connecting rooms?” Chester’s eyes glided around Mike’s room again, coming to rest on the still open door leading back into his. A touch of a smile crossed his lips, before continuing, “I think they’d be surprised that we _aren’t_ fucking.”

Warmth flooded Mike’s body as Chester so casually mentioned them fucking. _Fucking. Yes, yes, let’s do that._ “Then what is there to think about, Ches?” Mike asked softly. Chester fell back on the bed, legs dangling over the side, Mike looking at him from just feet away. _Look at you, Ches. I can see every line of your body right now, every place I’ve already touched and the places I haven’t known yet. I want to know all of you. Nobody has to know._ “Nobody knows anything for sure. We can just keep it that way.”

Mike really couldn’t believe he was suggesting active deception, it really wasn’t like him at all. It was one thing to conceal feelings, it was a wholly other thing to conceal an affair. _Affair._ The word rolled around Mike’s consciousness, and he tried to muster some feelings to go with it. Bad feelings... shame, or potential regret. All he could come up with was excitement. “I’m tired of ignoring how I feel. How _we_ feel. Let’s just feel, Ches, for once.” Mike reached out a hand toward Chester, who looked up at him with eyes full of conflict. 

“I know if I say yes to you now, I’m saying yes forever. And I’m not sure hiding this is the best way.” Chester took Mike’s hand, placing a gentle kiss in his palm, the way he had done the night before. Mike felt his heart sink at Chester’s words, and the beginnings of tears pricked at the corners of his eyes as Chester continued, “I’m not saying no, Mikey. I just need to figure out how we go forward without destroying everything we’ve worked for. Without destroying families. Because I know once this starts, you’re going to be the only thing in my world. And it won’t be long before everyone knows. Are we ready for that? Are you?” He paused, thinking, and continued, “there’s no need to rush, Mike. We’ve been on this road for a decade. At a steady 5 miles per hour,” he grinned, “so no need to smash the pedal down now.”

Chester stood up, pulling Mike in close the way they were before, and Mike closed his eyes again, feeling Chester’s fuzzy pajamaed warmth nuzzle into his body. “Mikey,” he whispered, “we’ll figure it out, ok?” Chester’s cheek rested on Mike’s, both men breathing in sync, naturally- everything about their lives was in sync. It was just the way they were. The way they had been for fifteen years or maybe even more. 

Mike nodded, silent, aching to throw Chester down on the bed and take everything he wanted from the smaller man. _Patience. He’s right. This has been ten years in the making. I can wait some more. I can do it, if it means I can finally have him the way I want him. All of him._ “Ok, Ches. Let’s get dressed. I’m hungry.”

***************************************************************************

The rest of the day went by fast, three interviews back to back after their late breakfast, only Mike and Chester. The other guys were playing golf, which really didn’t interest Mike much, though Chester liked to prance around the golf course in his designer clothes and provide commentary on everyone’s golfing abilities. Only Dave could call himself a golfer, but it was always a good time when they all got together on the course to hack golf balls and screw around. Dave enjoyed playing different courses around the world, and so they usually did on their days off, despite being terrible at golf, and the six men enjoyed each other’s company and considered it a good way to relax between shows. 

There were plans to meet up with the others after the interviews for dinner, but once the last one wrapped up, Chester slipped his hand into Mike’s in the back seat of the van and mumbled, “I’m tired. Can we just go back to the hotel?” 

Even though Mike himself was full of energy, and starving, he never said no to Chester. “Of course,” he said kindly, then turning to their driver, “change of plans, we’re going back to the hotel.” A brief nod followed, and Mike quickly fired a text off to Brad to tell him to go ahead and eat without them. Once Mike knew they were headed back, he let his mind drift away while he stared out the window. He mulled over the last twenty-four hours with Chester, everything that had been said, the gentle kiss this morning… _Ahhh, I want to kiss him again. I still can’t believe he kissed me._ Without realizing it, Mike stroked a fingertip over his bottom lip, feeling Chester’s warm mouth open under his, feeling Chester’s hands threaded in his hair, feeling his heartbeat speed up, _what will it feel like to finally have more? I’ve wanted him for so long. _He felt his jeans tighten and he shifted uncomfortably, his mind creating scenarios that involved Chester’s mouth falling lower and lower on his body, kissing and licking and sucking a trail down, lower and lower… Looking over at Chester, Mike felt the same familiar warmth flood his heart as always when he had opportunity to gaze on the man he loved without being seen. Chester was leaning back in the seat, eyes closed, humming softly to himself, Mike’s hand still held tightly. His eyes skimmed over Chester’s delicate jawline, and he looked at the soft places on that pale neck that he wanted to taste. _Patience. Right. Jesus, I deserve an award for all this patience.___

____

He both heard and felt the moment Chester dropped off to sleep, his grip on Mike’s hand becoming lax and his breathing deep and regular. Mike couldn’t look away, couldn’t bring himself to do anything other than rub his thumb across the back of Chester’s hand and hope and pray Chester would agree that keeping their secret was the only way to continue right now. Just five minutes after Chester had fallen asleep they were back at the hotel, and Mike pressed down on his seatbelt with his free hand before leaning over Chester, shaking him gently. He hated waking him. “Ches? Chester? We’re back.” 

____

Eyes opening blearily, Chester looked confused for a moment before his eyes locked onto Mike’s. Then his gaze drifted down to Mike’s lips and he pressed his lips together before whispering, “yeah, ok,” and sat up, letting go of Mike’s hand and reaching for the door handle. They walked inside silently, Mike unsure if he should say anything or not. _This has got to be the weirdest day. Ugh. Everything feels so strange. Yesterday was so normal and now everything is out there and it’s awkward, knowing we’re in love with each other. I mean, really knowing it… I still can’t believe it all. I couldn’t think about anything else while we were answering questions today. I hope I didn’t say anything stupid, I can’t remember anything we talked about! I can’t believe he never told me we’ve been making out in my sleep. I can’t believe any of this is happening. I can’t believe we’re actually considering starting an affair. An affair… is it as wrong as it would be if it were with a woman?_ They were in the elevator, Chester slumped against Mike’s side, obviously thinking about the morning as well, a troubled look on his face. Just then, Mike’s phone vibrated and he looked away from Chester to read a text from Brad. 

____

>“Want the guys to bring you anything from the restaurant?” Mike asked, showing Chester the text message and thinking already about enjoying Chinese takeout when the others got back to the hotel. Chester shook his head, though, and Mike frowned. Suppressing a yawn, Chester responded, “you know what we haven’t done in forever? Ordered a pizza. I just want to order a pizza and go to bed. I’m exhausted from all the talking today.” 

____

“Pizza?” Mike responded, thinking about melty cheese and mushrooms, and suddenly even more starving than before. “Yeah, pizza sounds good. Ok, I’ll order us one, why don’t you get a shower? You’ll feel better.” The elevator door opened and Mike took Chester’s arm, leading him out and down the hallway. They both entered Mike’s room, but Chester immediately went through the door into his, pulling his shirt off as he went. _No time wasted on that shower, I see._ Mike smiled and pulled up his web browser on his phone, looking for pizza he could order online. 

__

He could hear the shower running in the adjoining room, and he imagined Chester removing each piece of clothing, revealing more and more pale skin to him as he dropped clothing to the floor. He thought about Chester stepping into the shower, the steam all around, leaning his head back and rubbing his hands over his barely there hair, lips parted and glistening with water droplets. _I could walk in there right now, just step in behind him and hold him, kiss his neck and tell him I love him out loud, I wonder what he would do. Would he push me away or would it just be the beginning? I hope he realizes keeping this between us is the only way right now, this is making me crazy!_

__

When it came, the pizza was as good as Chester hoped it would be, the cheese gooey and stringing out between the piece he was holding and his teeth. Mike watched each bite from the corner of his eyes, barely tasting his own food as transfixed on Chester enjoying his as he was. Everything with Chester was sensual, he lived everything so intensely and passionately, and without noticing the impact it had on anyone around him. Or at least the impact it had on Mike. Before long the pizza was gone and Chester stretched out on Mike’s bed, hand on his stomach, patting it contentedly. 

__

“I don’t think I can move,” Chester groaned, looking at the side of Mike’s face after he had fallen on his back beside him on the bed, their bodies inches apart. 

__

“I know, I’m stuffed,” Mike agreed, patting his stomach in turn. They lay in satisfied silence for a few minutes before Chester finally spoke again. 

__

“I’m going to go back to my room for tonight,” he said, looking away as Mike turned on his side to face him. A long moment passed between them, heavy, wordless, fraught with tension. Neither man reached for the other, neither asked the other if Mike’s door would be unlocked that night. Chester knew it would be, and that Mike would be waiting. He knew how much trouble Mike had falling asleep without him. He knew he’d only have to walk through the door and slip between the sheets and there would be no turning back. Not tonight. Not ever. Chester just didn’t know if he could bear keeping it all a secret, but he also knew he couldn’t bear another divorce, more children scattered from his reach. And he loved Talinda… almost as much as he loved Mike. It was an impossible situation to be in, and he wished he’d never confessed his love to Mike or his knowledge of how Mike felt about him. It would have been easier to keep pretending they didn’t know. At least, it would have been easier for him. 

__

“Good night, Mikey,” he said, voice resolute, projecting an air of confidence in his choice. Mike closed his eyes so he wouldn’t have to watch Chester leaving him there on the bed, alone. _Don’t go,_ he thought, echoing his thoughts from earlier that morning. When he opened his eyes, Chester was gone, but the connecting door was cracked a bit. To Mike, that crack looked like hope. 

__

Chester would be in his room. Mike in his. Space. Time to think. 

__

Mike didn’t want space or time to think. He’d had years to think, and he was finished with that shit now that he’d felt Chester’s lips on his. He jumped off the bed, frustrated, impatient, and horny. He’d done well to suppress it for years, but now that having Chester was within reach, the pressure Mike felt inside was unbearable. _I’m going to go in there and… and… nothing. Not a damn thing. Jesus, Mike, get yourself together. You’re not going to do a damn thing until he’s ok with it all. You have no rights to him at all. Go take a fucking shower and try to fucking sleep._ Mike’s thoughts had turned aggressive in his irritated state, and he kicked the side of his suitcase on his way into the bathroom. 

__

The shower didn’t do much to relieve the tension, and as Mike stood brushing his teeth afterwards, his frustration became desperation, and fear, then an overwhelming feeling of needing to talk to Chester _now,_ wanting to force his hand do anything because nothing was far worse than something. He rinsed out his mouth and crept toward the door, pausing before pushing the crack open further. _This isn’t how we do this. I never go to him. I can’t go in there. He’ll make me leave._ Instead Mike peered through the door, where he could see Chester asleep on top of the comforter in the blueish light from the cartoons on the television. _Damn, how can he already be asleep? Well, it’s probably better that way anyway. I should try to sleep too. He’ll come around, I know he will. He has to._

__

It was hours before Mike dropped off into fretful sleep, uncomfortable despite the pillow he held in front of him. Missing Chester’s warmth and thinking of their simple, sweet kiss earlier made the ache in his groin even more unbearable, and sleep was elusive. He tossed and turned, thoughts of Chester swirling about in his head, teasing him, causing him to mumble in his sleep. It was not restful and Mike sat up in the darkness an hour after falling asleep, feeling anxious and lightheaded. He padded over to the bathroom and took care of business with the light still off, wishing he could sleep just a little. _Tomorrow night-ugh, tonight- is going to be so hard if I can’t get any sleep. Damn it, Chester. You know we have a show tonight. Why couldn’t this have waited until we got back home? There’s just one more show here in England, and we would have been home, sleeping alone anyway._

__

When he walked out of the bathroom he was startled by Chester’s shadow in the darkness. He hadn’t even heard Chester come in. “Ches? What are you doing?” Exhaustion swept over him and he crawled back into the bed, pulling the comforter up to his neck to escape the cold. 

__

“I’ve been awake for a while, I heard you get up,” Chester explained, still standing next to the bed. “I’ve been thinking. I’m sorry for making this so hard, I guess… I think I’m just scared, Mike. You’re so important to me, I don’t want to screw this up. I’m always screwing things up. And I don’t think I can take it if I lose you, especially now… now that you know I love you too. I love you so much...” His voice trailed off and Mike held his breath as Chester slipped between the sheets. “I’m saying yes, Mike. Let’s make this the best secret ever,” he whispered, before his lips came down to claim Mike’s softly, testing the waters. Mike felt adrenaline spike under his skin, suddenly no longer tired. 

__

“Yeah, Ches… Best. Secret. Ever.” This kiss wasn’t a dream. Suddenly they were moving 100 miles per hour. 

__


	5. Just feel.

_This is happening. He’s here, he’s not leaving me._

Mike reached for Chester, pulling him down, feeling lightheaded already and the kiss was only seconds long. “I want to remember everything this time, Ches… I’m wide awake… I want to see you, I can’t see you...”

“No,” Chester breathed against Mike’s lips. “Tonight we’re just going to feel.” The whispered words felt like electricity shooting across Mike’s skin and he moaned into Chester’s mouth, already shaking with desire and neediness. He felt Chester’s hands in his hair again, feather light against his scalp, his fingertips tracing patterns in his hair as the kiss deepened, lips and tongues becoming more insistent. Mike ran one hand down Chester’s back, feeling the warm smoothness of his skin, seeing every inch of his tattooed back in his mind, etched into his brain from countless nights of watching his vocalist strut the stage shirtless. _If he knew how I can’t take my eyes off him during the shows… how I’ve memorized every line, curve, color on his skin… how I’ve wanted to trace every one of those tattoos with my tongue…_ Their lips broke apart as Chester kissed across Mike’s cheek, nipping at his ear and Mike gasped, brought back into the moment by Chester’s teeth. 

_Fuck, I can’t wait anymore, I’ve been waiting for this for so long…_ In one motion Mike scooped Chester close to him and reversed their positions, neatly moving him onto his back as Mike went for his neck, sinking his hips down into Chester’s and feeling the delicious arousal between them. _Fuck, you taste better than I imagined. I never thought I’d be sucking on your neck. Wait! Don’t suck too hard, you can’t leave a mark, the guys will see,_ Mike scolded himself as he reluctantly let up on the pressure, wanting to mark Chester as his yet knowing that he shouldn’t. He brought his hips down into Chester’s again, more forcefully this time, feeling the hardness under Chester’s pajama pants, and hearing his sharp intake of breath in the silence of the room. 

“Mmmmm, fuck yes, Mikey, I can feel you,” Chester murmured, sending Mike’s mind into frantic overdrive. It was better than any dream he’d ever had, and he fervently thanked the universe that this was finally happening, it still didn’t seem real. Chester’s soft hands traced Mike’s shoulder blades, skipped down his spine, and teased at the back of his boxers, not committing to taking them off just yet, and making Mike’s stomach turn in somersaults. Mike was still lost in the curve of Chester’s neck, which was obligingly leaned back to grant access, and he nibbled and sucked and licked his way along the pale skin back to Chester’s waiting mouth, unable to be away from his inviting lips for long. They kissed like they were giving each other oxygen to survive, no longer the sweet gentle first kiss from the morning, but raw, and more desperate, forging a new connection between them. Chester had been right, saying yes meant saying yes forever, Mike knew there would be no way back from crossing this line, but neither of them cared at the moment. Being with each other was all that mattered. Chester broke the kiss, gasping, “ahhh, yesssss, Mike, God.... you’ve never kissed me like this before...”

Mike couldn’t remember _any_ kisses but the thought of Chester knowing him, remembering how he kissed, how he felt next to him, over him, sent sparks through his body, and he pressed in closer, feeling the tension building in his body, begging for more, for something, for anything. He fleetingly wondered just what bringing each other to orgasm for the first time would be like, and if they had the first idea how best to get there. _I’ve never done this before. I’ve imagined this a million times but I never, ever thought we’d be doing this. I have no idea what I’m doing. Does he? Should I just take control? Do I let him lead? Someone needs to touch someone else, I can’t take it anymore!_

So then, before he could think about it too much and become anxious from lack of experience, Mike’s hand moved between them, fumbling nervously with the waistband of Chester’s pajama pants, finding nothing underneath, and curling around Chester’s length, touching him for the first time. He was all warm silk over enticing hardness, and Mike hesitated for a moment, reveling in the feel of the other man’s erection in his hand. It was new and exciting but familiar too, a sense of inevitability about the whole experience. _So this is what it’s like to hold you in my hand… God, I don’t know how much longer I can stand this. I want to make you cum so badly, I want to make you scream my name, I want to feel you lose control. With me. Only me. You’re letting me touch you, oh my God, Ches, I’m touching you, finally._ Tiny whimpers escaped the back of Chester’s throat as Mike’s hand started to move, stroking down firmly then back up again, moving his thumb over top before pushing down again, trying to go slow but wanting to hear more of the new, incredible sounds he was bringing out of Chester. _I thought I’d heard every sound he could make through the years, singing, screaming, laughing, teasing, sleepy, hungry, angry, cranky, lonely… but never desire, he wants me, he wants this too… that’s right, Ches, let me hear that voice._ Mike desperately wished he could see Chester’s face in the darkness, even though Chester kept reminding him to just _feel,_ whispering the word over and over as Mike’s hand created waves of pleasure. He picked up the pace and leaned down to trap Chester’s mouth under his, plunging his tongue inside, claiming every bit of the space as his. _Mine. You’re mine now, all mine. Only mine._

Suddenly, Chester placed a hand on Mike’s chest, pushing against him slightly, panting out, “Mikey, what’s the rush. You said you wanted to feel. Let’s feel…” and Mike knew he’d brought Chester close, but it was all too fast. Chester wanted to be back in control, and so he pulled Mike back from the edge, slowing the frantic kisses, pushing him away and down into the bed, climbing on top and taking hold of Mike’s hands, guiding them away from his body. 

“What the fuck, Ches, let me touch you-” Mike’s voice choked off as Chester leaned forward to press tiny kisses into his chest, creating patterns that left a line of fire on Mike’s skin. It was as good, no better, than his daydream earlier, Chester’s lips and teeth marking his skin, causing his heart to race as he moved lower and lower, flicking his tongue over one nipple before lightly biting the other, kissing his way back along Mike’s ribcage and then down further, stopping at the top of his boxers, placing gentle kisses along the skin above the waistband. Mike held his breath, waiting, waiting, then trembling as Chester released his hands and hooked his fingers around the top of the boxers and pulled them off in one motion. For a moment Mike was alone, no contact between his body and Chester’s, the cold air shocking him after the loss of Chester’s body heat, and Mike blindly reached out, asking “where are you?” in the dark, feeling slightly disoriented. He went from feeling everything to feeling nothing. 

And then, it was just Chester’s lips around his dick, confidently taking him in, Chester secure in the knowledge that it was _Mike_ and wanting beyond anything else to make him _feel._

All of Mike’s being was feeling, his body melting into Chester’s touch, his mind screaming, _yes, yes, yes, oh, you feel so good, do that again, ah, yes!_ Chester’s mouth, his warm, wet, beautiful mouth that could scream one moment and sing so tenderly the next, felt exquisite on him now, and Mike let out a low moan as ripples of desire flooded his body, one hand coming up to cup the back of Chester’s head. The closely shaved hair felt like velvet under his fingertips, his thumb smoothing circles while trying desperately not to push Chester’s head forward to take him in deeper. Mike’s other hand was over his face, biting down on his own wrist in pleasured pain, holding back the whimpers and whispers for fear of losing control completely. Sanity was a thin thread, with Chester’s tongue swirling around his erection, Mike wanting it to last but already feeling the familiar tightening of his stomach. _No, no, no, not yet. God, this is amazing, he’s amazing, his mouth is amazing, oh God, not yet…_

The thoughts had barely formed words in his consciousness when Chester lifted away from him, replacing his mouth with his hand and smashing his lips into Mike’s. An intense moment of kissing and stroking passed, Mike once again coming back from the edge, whimpering in elated frustration, when Chester heatedly whispered into Mike’s mouth, “do you feel me, Mike? Do you feel how much I want you? Tell me how you feel.”

Words were difficult. Chester wanted words and Mike had no words, just sensations, the feeling of Chester everywhere, covering him, smothering him. ‘I… I… feel… feel you, Ches, I feel. _You._

“Tell me what you want, Mike, do you want me?” A stroke up, thumb circling the top of Mike’s dick, wet with Chester’s saliva, mixed with precum, gliding smoothly. 

“Mmmmm…”

Another slow stroke down, and Mike’s back arched off the bed. “I said… Do. You. Want. Me.”

“Mmmmm… hmmmm… oh, yes… mmmmm…” and Chester’s lips were around him again, working in time with his hand, bringing Mike back to the precipice, the tension unbearable, his breathing erratic. It felt like his entire body was alive with a thousand sparks, and Mike knew he was about to tumble over the edge, lose himself in the secret pleasure of Chester’s beautiful mouth, and he gave up on every word he knew but Chester’s name. 

“Ches, Ches, ohmygod, Chester,” as he spilled into Chester’s mouth, trying to back away but being pulled back in, Chester riding the waves with him, swallowing him down, one hand splayed over his stomach, feeling the orgasm overtake his body. It was more intense than any other time Mike could remember, the knowledge that Chester had brought him there more than his mind could process at that moment. His thoughts were blissfully blank, sensation more powerful than words, everything that had shattered into bits coming back together again, the sound of Chester’s breathing and his breathing the only thing he could hear, the blackness still all around but the feeling of Chester, _his Chester_ still there, still close to him, still softly caressing him back to down to Earth. It was all over too soon, and Chester was gently kissing the inside of Mike’s thigh, the stubble on his chin tickling as his face moved, and Mike shivered, shaking, recovering, whispering, “Jesus, Ches, that… you… you’re amazing.”

Light hands moved up and over, tracing Mike’s sides before he felt Chester slide next to him, pressing his neglected erection into Mike’s hip. The darkness seemed to increase the sensitivity of his skin, and Mike felt like he was lying on the surface of the sun with Chester sprawled close to him. Still in the blackness, Mike’s other senses were on heightened alert, every sound Chester made registering in his groin. He figured it wouldn’t be long and he’d be ready to go again, especially with Chester kissing down his neck again. With a hand that felt weighted, Mike reached for Chester’s face, halting the tiny kisses for a moment, bringing their lips back together before he spoke, his voice low and husky… “Chester... _damn, Chester… I’ve wanted you for so long, waited for you for so long… I’m going to make you scream my name tonight_.” 

It was a promise of a sleepless night ahead.


	6. Control

“... and an extra side of bacon,” Mike finished, closing the menu and handing it to the waitress with a smile. Bacon was his weakness, and they all knew it. Joe didn’t even look up from his phone while ordering pancakes, and then the waitress was gone, leaving five men with their coffee and one with peppermint tea. Feeling a bit feisty this morning, Mike scoffed playfully in Brad’s direction, “Delson, are you ever going to man up and have some caffeine in the morning?”

All six of the guys were sitting at breakfast, four of them well rested. Rob looked up from tearing open his sugar packet as Brad folded down one corner of the newspaper he was perusing and peered at Mike from over the top with pursed lips. “I am secure in my manhood. Do you know what caffeine does to your body?”

The other five men groaned as they felt Brad’s lecture coming on. Dave leaned back in his chair, settling in for Brad’s five minute long diatribe about the addiction that was caffeine, how it messed with your brain chemistry and heart rhythms, and did you know it shortened your life? Brad went on and on and Mike was sorry he’d even started with him. His eyes met Chester’s over the table and Chester’s were sparkling with mirth, ready to egg Brad on just to annoy him. Mike shot him a warning glare to stop him before Chester could open his mouth, but it was too late. “Tell us about bacon, Braddles. Surely that’s worse for Shinoda than coffee.”

Mike rolled his eyes at Chester as their resident vegetarian Brad folded the newspaper and set it down next to his plate, adjusting his glasses and taking on a very serious expression. As soon as Brad opened his mouth, though, Mike couldn’t hear anything, because Chester’s sock covered foot started creeping up his leg. Chester was sipping slowly on his cup of coffee, looking in Brad’s general direction and assuming a look of pleasant interest on the subject of artery clogging bacon while his toes worked their way up Mike’s calf, crossed his knee, and came to rest on the inside of his thigh. Mike picked his coffee cup up to hide his face, and Chester smirked, watching him out of the corner of his eyes. Brad kept talking, waving a hard around for emphasis every few words, looking around the table at each of his bandmates who all looked appropriately shamed to be meat eaters, except Rob. Rob was very seriously considering each word Brad spoke, nodding along thoughtfully his support. Chester took another sip of his coffee and inched his foot further up Mike’s thigh, and Mike held his breath as Chester paused, just inches from placing his foot on Mike’s crotch. _Just go ahead and do it already!_

The coffee cup landed on the table with a thud as Chester’s foot pressed down against what was now Mike’s cramped erection. He closed his eyes for what he thought was just a moment and felt the sole of Chester’s foot applying perfect pressure, rubbing tiny circles back and forth across his dick, sending Mike’s thoughts back to the night before, Chester’s hand and mouth on him, caressing, sucking, stroking him until he came--

“...and that’s why you need to quit eating so much bacon, Mike. Mike? MICHAEL!” Brad exclaimed, “have you heard a damn word I’ve said?”

Mike’s attention snapped to Brad’s irritated face, his eyes wide and somewhat confused from the interruption, Chester’s foot still pressing into him. “Uh, yeah.. Yeah… bacon… arteries… clogged.” He couldn’t even string two words together. Chester suppressed a giggle as Brad looked at him with exasperation, shaking his head and picking up his paper again, muttering under his breath about the state of Mike’s heart.

_My heart? You don’t need to worry about my heart, unless you’re worrying about how it’s going to shatter into pieces when we leave for home tomorrow._

Chester’s foot gave a final press down before retreating as his eggs benedict was placed in front of him. Mike was already dreading the next morning, when they’d all be bright and early back on a plane to LA, returning home after 8 weeks away. It was only two weeks home until they started the North American leg of the tour, but he knew given the new reality of actually _being with_ Chester, those two weeks would feel like an unbearable eternity. 

They’d spent last night consumed with and within each other, Mike keeping true to his word as always, turning the game around on Chester and bringing him close to and away from orgasm so many times that Chester vowed to “rip your head off if you don’t let me come goddammnit!” Mike had finally gotten to hear him call his name over and over, less of a scream and more of a continuous chant, as he had reciprocated his first ever blow job to Chester’s delight. Once the high of actually bringing each other to climax had settled, it was nearly impossible to keep their hands off each other, languidly kissing and exploring in the dark, memorizing each newly discovered place that made the other gasp, before dropping off in each other’s arms into the deepest sleep Mike could remember.

The unfortunate sound of an iPhone alarm had been their wake up call, shattering the peace they had found in each other, though it started off a chain of kisses and caresses that had Mike’s blood boiling before they absolutely _had_ to meet the guys downstairs for breakfast. Mike wanted to say ‘fuck it’ to breakfast and have Chester instead, but Chester had slipped out of Mike’s grasp, insisting the best way to keep a secret was _not_ staying in bed together all day. It was with reluctance that Mike left their bed, tossing on jeans and a black t-shirt before Chester placed a backwards black hat on his head, kissing his cheek. “You’re so fucking gorgeous in the morning, ‘Noda,” he’d said, before his eyes caught the bite mark on Mike’s wrist. 

“What’s with the wristband?” Dave asked, gesturing to Mike’s left hand, where one of Chester’s thick leather cuffs was around his wrist. It had been Chester’s quick fix that morning, dug from the bottom of his suitcase right before they’d headed down to breakfast, and Mike hesitated just long enough for Chester to jump in and declare, “Mike is too boring, all ripped black jeans and t-shirts these days. I need him to have a little style for this last show tonight.”

_Boring, huh? You didn’t think I was boring last night._ Mike’s eyes caught Chester’s, and the unspoken words passed between them as they always did with the cock of Mike’s eyebrow. Knowing it was important to play along, though, he smiled and said, “yeah, Chester’s threatening to use me as a life sized dress up doll if I don’t up my game a bit tonight.” Now Chester’s eyebrows waggled suggestively at the thought of Mike‘s dress up game, and Mike shifted in the chair a bit, still aroused from the footsie attack earlier. _If he’s not careful I’m going to throw him up against the wall and fuck him senseless. Well, I would if I knew what in the hell I was doing. Still, I want to fuck him senseless, we’ll figure that out. I hope. Soon._

All the guys continued their banter between bites, Mike and Chester glancing at each other and laughing at each other’s jokes when nobody else did no more than usual, but Dave had picked up on the softness in Mike’s eyes, and quiety watched the pair, trying to figure out what had changed. Nothing pointed in any particular direction, though, and breakfast ended with Brad announcing the departure time for the venue and sternly reminding Chester to be on time, charging Mike with the responsibility of ensuring it was so.

They all parted ways after exiting the elevator, Rob and Brad deep in discussion, Joe still on his phone, and Dave hanging back behind them all, keeping an eye on Mike and Chester. He watched as they glanced at each other before unlocking their respective rooms, and decided maybe he was imagining that something was different. Maybe the look about Mike’s face was simply the fact that he was well rested after a day off. 

In the hallway, doors closed behind all the men, and alone in his room, Mike reached for the light. After a quick glance at the time, he tossed his phone in the general direction of the bed. _We have enough time to relax before we have to leave, maybe a nap now that breakfast is over. A nap? At 9am? We should still be asleep, damn Brad and his routines!_ Just as he was about to call for Chester through the open connecting door, Mike felt arms encircle him from behind, and he was already there, stealthily silent, resting his cheek on Mike’s back. A smile crept over his face as his hands moved to cover Chester’s, and he heard Chester’s sleepy voice, “I love you, you know. I've always loved you. I wish I would have said something sooner.”

_Me too. We could have been living nights like last night for the last five years. We wouldn’t be 40 years old and just now sorting this out. Maybe it would be easier._ Mike didn’t want to talk about it right now, not about the past five years, not about going home tomorrow, not about anything. He just wanted to crawl back in bed and fall asleep beside Chester and not feel like he had to have answers to any of the unspoken questions between them. “You know I love you, too,” was all he said, feeling those words roll off his tongue for the first time in coherent awakeness, and blushing even though he knew that _Chester_ knew it was true already. The tattooed arms around his waist squeezed him close, and he felt lips brush the back of his neck softly, Chester’s warm breath tickling under his ear as he whispered, “let’s go back to bed.”

Mike didn’t have to be asked twice, following easily as Chester’s arms pulled him backward toward the bed, the two of them falling together side by side, Mike twisting around to face Chester after a moment. Chester’s eyes were so calm, dark, bottomless, as Mike gazed into his face, feeling his stomach twist in anticipation. It was with a rush of heat that their lips came together, bolder this time than the night before, Mike instantly aroused again with Chester pressed against him and holding on to his bicep tightly as one hand already made its way inside Mike’s jeans, stroking his length the way a foot had earlier. It was different, being held this way by Chester, his grip strong instead of gentle, his movements assertive where usually he allowed Mike to take the lead in their relationship. Mike was the one who gave the orders, who said how to sing, when to scream, what octave to try, which emotion to summon. Mike was the powerful voice in the room when he wanted to try something new, perseuding the others eventually to follow his idea, his passion, his creative inspiration. It felt strange but thrilling to allow Chester to be in control of anything, especially this new physical aspect to their relationship, but it was also so nice to just let go for once and let Chester guide him. Not knowing what would happen next was a thrill Mike Shinoda didn’t get very often. 

A sudden sharp knock on the door stilled their movements, and they looked at each other with wide eyes as Dave’s voice came faintly through the door. “Mike! Hey man, open up!” 

Mike fumbled with the button of his jeans as he hastily made his way to the door, watching Chester try to untangle his legs from the sheets as he fell to the floor with a thump. “Go!” Mike hissed, jerking his head toward the door to Chester’s room, feeling concerned about Chester’s well being only for a moment until he rose and disappeared. _Good, no broken bones. This time._ He smoothed a hand through his hair, dismayed to have no idea where his hat had gone, before placing one hand in his pocket casually and opening the door with the other.

Dave’s wise eyes peered around what he could see of the room as soon as the door opened. “I knocked on Chester’s door, he didn’t answer. Is he in here with you? I thought we could go for a run before we leave for the meet and greet.” With that, he walked past Mike and stood, looking toward the connecting door that Chester had left open. Mike’s eyes followed where Dave was staring, and he felt a blush start to creep up his neck, realizing he had no explanation for why the door was open. Just before Dave opened his mouth to ask, Chester glided back through the door, looking totally put together and calm.

“Was that you beating on my door, Phi? What’s a guy gotta do to take a piss in peace?” He plopped down on the chair in the corner, crossed one ankle over his knee, and looked terribly unaffected by the fact that moments earlier he’d had his hand down the front of Mike’s pants, moaning his name. His eyes caught Mike’s and he offered a flippant smile, looking expectantly at Dave, who in turn looked between Mike and Chester, trying to decipher the atmosphere of the room. 

“Yeah, I thought you might want to go for a run before we head out. Didn’t realize you guys were… hanging out. Didn’t see you come in here,” Dave said, gesturing toward Chester, then the open door, “but I guess that’s why. Connecting rooms, huh?”

“Yeah, it was fuckin’ awesome when we got here the other night and figured that out, it was like the old days when we used to have to share rooms! Staying up, talkin’ shit, you know, hangin’ out,” Chester supplied smoothly, as Mike felt his heart race. _One night, one fucking night and Dave’s in here, asking questions! How are we ever going to be able to do this?!_

Before Dave could ask another question, Chester bounced out of the chair, heading back to his room declaring, “let me change, I could use a run,” and leaving Mike staring after him, nervous and frustrated, and in the presence of one of their fellow band members who seemed to be processing all of this information with interest. _Do NOT ask me any questions, Dave, just go for your damn run. Just leave it alone, Dave. Dave… let it go._

Silent minutes passed and Mike could swear that his friend’s eyes held knowledge of their secret, but Dave said nothing, just looked at Mike one more time as Chester came back through the door again, having changed clothes quickly, looking over-excited to be burning off some energy. “Let’s go!” he said, pushing Dave toward the door and looking back at Mike right before stepping outside. He pointed at Mike, then himself, and mouthed ‘later’ with a grin and a wink as he closed the door. 

Mike fell back on the bed with a groan. Looked like he’d be getting that nap after all.


	7. Palm reader

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter includes a real life moment from this video: https://youtu.be/bxug6CnzmAQ While it doesn’t fit in the timeline of my story, it was too great an opportunity to pass up in this fantasy world.

Everyone assumed that it was Mike that had been focused, managing to get both himself and Chester down to the van at Brad’s prescribed time. In reality, Mike was having a hard time staying focused on anything but thoughts of Chester-- kissing Chester, touching Chester, smelling Chester, licking Chester… thoughts of Chester returning from his run, dripping with sweat, and all Mike had wanted to do was climb in the shower next to him and lose himself in trying to figure out Chester’s wet, slippery body. Instead, he had sat down and begun sketching, trying to keep his mind off the fact that Chester was singing naked in the shower mere feet from him, trying to clear his mind and focus on the rest of the day. _I can make it through the rest of the day without touching him, I can! I love meeting fans, meet and greets are always entertaining with Chester there, we can act normal, I can act normal, nothing has changed. Nobody needs to know. Nothing has changed._

Everything had changed, and Mike was still trying to convince himself that he was ok when he looked at what he was sketching and realized it was the palm of Chester’s hand. It startled him for a moment, realizing how intimately he knew a part of his best friend’s body that normally wasn’t on display. _How did that happen? I can’t even keep my mind on drawing, how am I going to keep my mind on the show tonight with him standing there? We go back home tomorrow. What then? Will Anna know something has changed? I don’t want to go home for two weeks, not now! I’ve finally got what I want and we have to go home._ Frustrated, Mike closed the sketchbook and tossed it on top of his suitcase. _Get yourself together, Shinoda. It’s not like you won’t see him._

Damp and smelling like lavender, Chester had emerged from his room, planted a kiss firmly on Mike’s lips, tapped his watch, and pulled Mike toward the door. For once, it was Chester being responsible, keeping them on schedule, when all Mike wanted to do was lock the door and lock out the world for the rest of the day. There was so much to do, so many enticing things left to discover about each other, and less than 24 hours to do it! The only thing getting in the way was twelve hours of actually being participants in their band. Mike supposed that was important, but he still pouted about it on the way to the venue. Chester had sung snippets of random songs the entire way to the arena in an effort to cheer him up, Mike laughing at the ridiculousness of it all, snapping selfies and thinking how gorgeous and full of life his friend was. _Friend? Boyfriend? Are we lovers? Is there even a word to describe us?_

Later, he could say he’d honestly tried to keep it all together, but there were slips along the course of the evening, one in particular that did not go unnoticed by all their bandmates. They’d just finished a beautiful piano version of Leave Out All the Rest and Mike was getting a quick sip of water when Chester announced, “Let’s make some noise for Mike Shinoda!”

Mike didn’t miss a beat before turning the admiration back around on his friend, responding, “Let’s make some noise for Chester Bennington!” Love swelled inside his chest as the crowd roared for Chester, louder than they ever did for him, which was Mike’s intention. _Chester deserves all the love there is in the world. I love listening to him, sometimes it’s hard to keep from just staring at him while we’re up here. I’m the luckiest guy in the world to have found him._ Mike’s favorite moments on stage were the stripped down songs, just him and Chester, with Chester’s heart on display for everyone. The high energy moments were great, but the intimate moments on stage were what Mike lived for these past few years. They had filled the empty place inside that longed for Chester’s affection, and tonight had absolutely been no different. Tonight had felt like more, with Chester taking more opportunities than usual to look Mike’s direction, Mike desperately trying to concentrate on his keys and not miss notes. 

The applause died down and Chester took hold of the mic, swinging around and gazing over at Mike behind the keyboard. Their eyes met and Mike could feel the air being sucked out of the room as Chester spoke, his voice a level lower, almost husky, playful, alighting butterflies in Mike’s stomach, “The reason I say that is, every once in awhile, I just want to appreciate how much fuckin’ talent this guy has right here.”

More applause erupted as Mike giggled like a schoolgirl, and without thinking of how his comment would be received, continued for them, “The reason I like to say that every once in awhile is because I look over and I see that you have a very nice butt!” _Fuck, did I just say that? I didn’t mean to say that out loud! DId my voice really come out sounding that serious? Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

Chester stood frozen for a moment, looking at Mike with wide eyes, before turning to grab a water bottle and taking a quick drink. A smattering of applause rippled through the crowd, a fair amount of astonished chatter with it, causing Mike to add, “What? Am I wrong?” while flashing his signature Shinoda grin. Without spotlights up on the rest of the band, Mike could feel them looking at him in astonishment. It was one thing for them to hug on stage, to sit close in interviews, to laugh and joke and share meaningful glances, but tonight… the way Mike’s voice sounded while complimenting Chester... felt different to everyone. _I am such an idiot. Chester is going to be so mad at me! I was the one saying we could keep this a secret and here I am shouting to the world that I love his ass on stage! I’m such an idiot!!_

Smoothly, Chester took turns complimenting everyone’s asses, causing laughter again in the crowd, then cheers as the beginning of Somewhere I Belong sounded in the arena. Crisis averted, they played through the rest of the set, then the encore, and the European chapter of the One More Light tour was complete. As Mike and Chester made their way to the front of the stage, arms around each other, Chester yelled in Mike’s ear, “what are you doing to me, Shinoda?” and when Mike turned to look at Chester, whose face was so close Mike could almost kiss him, he felt the arousal brought on by proximity and performance come on hard and swift. _I want to be back at the hotel. Now._ Chester squeezed him close then moved away to blow a kiss at the crowd, Mike making a final wave behind him before retreating. 

Exhilarated, the band gathered in the dressing room backstage, laughing, talking, wiping away sweat, messing with each other. Chester was high from the show, whipping his towel at everyone’s back as they moved to escape, and Mike stood feet away, toweling off and watching the way Chester’s muscles rippled underneath his skin with every movement. _Tonight. I have to have him tonight. However that happens, I won’t be able to stand it if we go back to LA without… without…_ Mike’s thoughts were stumped. It felt awfully girlish to think of ‘making love’ to Chester, but it felt too crude to think of what was to come as simply fucking. Mike had never been into the casual fuck anyway, having gone from his high school girlfriend to Anna-- and those two women made up his total sexual experiences, despite many, many opportunities for a fling on the road. He’d never had sex with anyone he wasn’t in love with, he’d never considered cheating on his wife, and now part of his brain was neatly compartmentalizing Chester as ‘not cheating.’ _Making love? Fucking? Jesus, I don’t even know what to call this. I’ve been in love with him for so long-”_

Chester’s towel made contact with his butt, interrupting Mike’s thoughts, causing him to jump, and Joe to exclaim, “looks like it’s not just Mike crushing on Chester’s ass!”

Mike felt shades of red creeping up his neck, wondering why he was blushing, when it had always seemed everything the band said was one giant sexual joke. Dave too wondered at Mike’s reaction, watching the blush spread across Mike’s face, turning deeper as Chester reached in for the squeeze of one butt cheek while purring, “yes, Mikey, I’m so _in love_ with this ass!”

The hungry look in Mike’s eyes didn’t escape their bassist’s eagle sharp eyes, but he still held and said nothing, though suspicious thoughts were growing in his mind. Mike’s reactions to Chester’s very commonplace flirting seemed extreme all of a sudden, but nobody else seemed to notice or care. Dave made note to keep an eye on them and when they got back to the hotel, to ask Brad if he’d noticed anything out of place. Maybe it was nothing, he thought, but it sure felt like something.

To Mike, it seemed like an eternity passed before they were finally in the vans, Mike, Chester, and Dave in one, Brad, Joe, and Rob in the other. Dave fiddled with his phone, sending snaps back and forth with his girls, trying to look like he wasn’t interested in what Mike and Chester were doing. Chester had deflated a bit by this time, and was nursing a cup of tea, soothing his voice after a night of scringing. Mike had laid his head back on the headrest, clearly exhausted. Silent minutes passed, and as Dave was adding bunny ears to his kissy face selfie to send to his wife, he saw Chester’s hand creep toward Mike. He held perfectly still, phone in front of his face, and watched Chester brush Mike’s sweaty hair away from his forehead, causing Mike’s face to turn toward him, Dave able to see his profile in the street lights. 

“It’s okay,” Chester whispered, barely audible, and Mike nodded his head before reaching for Chester’s hand. Nothing else was said, but the pair seemed to be communicating in that wordless way they had for years. Even though there was no conversation to be had, Dave felt strangely left out, as though they were speaking a language he didn’t know. He watched Mike turn Chester’s hand over, and trace the palm of Chester’s hand with his thumb, running the digit along each line in the dark as though he had it memorized. Chester simply smiled, took a sip of his tea, and rested his head back on the headrest, his hand still in Mike’s. Mike didn’t look away from Chester the entire rest of the ride.

When they arrived at the hotel, there was renewed energy in Mike’s step. He practically bounced out of the van, pulling Chester along behind him, and Dave stepped out, looking around for his other bandmates. He was certain he needed to talk to Brad _right now_. As he looked around to see if Brad was out of the other van yet, he saw Mike and Chester already making their way into the side door, laughing as they went, and curiosity overrode Dave’s urge to question Brad at that moment. He rushed to follow them inside, failing to catch the elevator with them, forced to wait impatiently as the other three guys came in the side door, giving him all kinds of shit for leaving them behind in the parking lot.

The moment the elevator doors closed behind them, Mike and Chester didn’t even remember they were in a band, Chester pushing Mike up against the mirrored wall of the elevator and grinding their hips together as Mike’s hands came down to cup his ass. _Ahhh, fuck, yes, Chester, this is what I’ve been thinking about all night. Your tight little ass in my hands._ Mike pulled Chester against him possessively even as Chester pushed Mike back into the wall, both of them trying to gain the upper hand, neither succeeding. Chester went in for the kiss, lips hot and demanding against Mike’s, and his pulse raced as he felt and smelled Chester all around, unbelievably turned on by the way he tasted like salty sweat and sweet honey from the tea, sliding his tongue between Mike’s lips and his hands into Mike’s sweaty hair. It was dirty and lovely and sexy, and Mike couldn’t wait to disappear behind closed doors and taste every part of Chester’s body. 

The kiss didn’t end as the doors opened, neither man caring who might be out at one in the morning to see them, so enamored they were with each other. Making their way down the hallway was less than efficient, stopping every few steps after tripping over each other, Mike unable to resist another kiss or nibble of Chester’s perfect white neck. _This is crazy! I can’t stop touching him. I don’t want to stop touching him, where is the key, take your hand out of my pants long enough for me to open the door, damn! Where is the key, oooooohhhhhhh._ He was sliding the key into the door as Chester breathed onto his neck, _“hurry,”_ and all the blood rushed from his head to the area Chester was caressing under his jeans. Mike turned to capture Chester’s mouth again, pushing an elbow down on the lever of the door and opening it with his back, and they stumbled inside, hands all over each other, breathless, anxious, no longer exhausted from the show but full of restless energy.

The four remaining band members turned the corner from the elevator just in time to see Mike and Chester, in the messy embrace of their passionate kiss, disappear into Mike’s hotel room.


	8. Like fire, or a thunderstorm

As the door clicked shut behind them, Mike’s only thought was how to relieve the tension begging under his skin, rising to meet Chester’s touches, greedy and lustful.

Where last night had been delicate sweetness, gentle teasing, a perfect discovery of each other, tonight felt… raw and intense, like fire, or a thunderstorm, and Mike couldn’t decide if he was dying by fire or lightning or simply Chester’s hot mouth on his skin. 

They stood for a moment just inside the door, big, open mouthed kisses taking the salt from Chester’s skin, Mike desperately tasting along Chester’s neck, Chester’s head thrown back in anticipation of Mike finding that one spot on his neck that turned his knees to jelly. Hands clutched at Mike’s shirt, moving it up, breaking contact for a moment, pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor, Mike feeling the shock of cold air across his back giving rise to goosebumps along his arms. He bit down on the sensitive spot below Chester’s neck and was rewarded with thrusting hips and a low moan that Mike felt in his bones. _I don’t think I’ve ever wanted someone as much as I want him right now. Fuck, fuck! I don’t know what to do next._

He found that his hands had made their way up Chester’s back, pulling him in closer, feeling soft skin, and then he felt Chester’s hands at his belt, making quick work of unbuckling and unbuttoning him, and he felt the blessed pressure of Chester’s hand against his dick, over his boxers, making him feel as though he would come right in Chester’s hand that very minute, _crazy, he’s making me crazy, I think this is going to be fucking, I am so going to fuck him into the ground! What happens next, I don’t know what happens next!_ All the anxieties swirled around in Mike’s head as he pressed himself up into Chester’s hand harder, closing his eyes at the desperate feelings crawling over him, driving him closer and closer to Chester’s waiting touch, imagining his mouth closing over him again the way it had the night before. Chester chose that moment to release him, breaking their kiss and moving Mike’s jeans down and away, and Mike stood trembling under Chester’s intense gaze, clad only in his boxers, completely aroused but terribly unsure of the next move. 

“You’re thinking too much, Mike,” Chester murmured, reading his mind. “Just feel this, go with it, whatever feels good is right, I swear to you…”

Like a panther, Mke moved forward, and their eyes locked together as he pushed Chester back onto the bed, falling between his legs, pressing him down into the mattress with just enough force to signify that Mike was making the decisions now. He simply let instinct take over as he ran hands firmly over Chester’s arms, then leaned over to trace the outline of the Pisces tattoo with his tongue, tasting the post-show skin as he ground his hips down into Chester’s again. The pressure was becoming unbearable but he soldiered on, placing light teasing bites across Chester’s collarbone, listening to the low moans of the man beneath him, taking a nipple between his teeth and flicking his tongue across the hardening bud. Sliding one hand down between Chester’s back and the sheets, filling his hand with the firm curve of his gorgeous ass and pressing Chester up into him. “These are coming off now,” he growled, tugging at Chester’s skinny jeans, growing impatient as the fabric clung stubbornly to Chester’s legs, adding, “get them off before I rip them off.”

With a glint of lust in his eyes, Chester wiggled his way out of the jeans. “Oooohhhh, Mikey, I like it when you play rough,” he teased, but was quickly quieted as Mike fell back on him, holding his wrists down as he dragged his tongue across Chester’s stomach, biting along his side and finding a ticklish spot, Chester gasping and trying to squirm away from Mike’s love bites. Mike was determined now, he was going to have every ounce of Chester he could get this evening. _I want him to feel the way I feel. I want him to remember this tomorrow on the plane, every second of the day, to need me again the way I need him right now. I need to taste him again._

A mere scrap of fabric separated Chester from complete nudity, and without hesitation, Mike took the top of Chester’s red boxer briefs between his teeth and started to pull them down, Chester lifting his hips off the bed and shimmying a bit to assist. It was nearly impossible to get them off, and Chester started to giggle, causing Mike to both smile and giggle too as he gave up, released a wrist, and dragged the offending item of clothing off. “Damn, I thought that was going to be sexy,” he said as Chester’s body shook with quiet laughter. In just seconds Mike lifted himself up to eye level, grabbing both flamed wrists again, covering Chester’s body with his own as he pulled his hands up and over his head and ground him down into the mattress. “You think it’s funny, Ches?” he whispered into Chester’s ear, breath hot between his lips, punctuating the question with a bite to Chester’s earlobe.

“Mmmmmmm… yeessssss....”

Mike was having none of that. He stuck his tongue in Chester’s ear, grasping his wrists harder, reveling in the sharp intake of breath he heard as the giggles subsided, fucking Chester’s ear with his tongue in quick, short thrusts. Chester squirmed underneath him and Mike breathed heavily in his ear, asking again, his voice thick with need, “still think it’s funny?”

All Chester could do was shake his head no as Mike slid back down, sloppily kissing a wet trail down his skin before taking Chester into his mouth, feeling the buck of Chester’s hips into his face and the pull, more forceful this time, of Chester trying to release his arms from Mike’s grasp. Mike’s biceps were screaming as he balanced on his elbows, slowly moving his mouth up and down Chester’s length, his fingers biting into Chester’s wrists as he held him down. “Nooooooo… it’s… not… funny…” came Chester’s voice in low groans.

It was only the second time Mike had performed this act on his lover, _lover, I still can’t believe this is happening,_ but the fact that Mike himself had experienced fellatio many times gave him a clear idea of what would bring Chester off, and so he released Chester’s wrists, grasping the base of his erection with one hand and starting slow strokes in time with his mouth. His mind barely registered Chester grabbing his free hand and lifting up, but he definitely felt lips parting next to his skin, and then Chester was mimicking what Mike was doing to his dick on Mike’s middle finger. Desire twisted in Mike’s stomach as he felt Chester’s tongue lapping around his finger, and he sucked harder with his mouth, the tension rising for them both as he lost himself in the feeling of his mouth fucking Chester whose mouth was fucking his finger, both of them moving together in perfect timing, the way their lives had moved together for years. He was losing coherent thought when he felt Chester release his finger with a ‘pop’, then guide Mike’s hand down, roughly pressing the wet finger against his ass, trying to make his point clear without words.

Mike hesitated, knowing exactly what Chester wanted, terrified that he would hurt him, unsure that he would know what to do. Then he felt Chester’s thighs part under him, providing more access, and before he could talk himself out of action, he slid his mouth back down as he pushed the tip of his middle finger into Chester’s ass, pausing when he felt the tight constriction around him, listening for sounds that indicated pain. All he heard from above was whimpers and whispers of his name, punctuated with affirmations, as he continued to probe into the alluring hotness, his mind out of control. _I can’t believe he’s letting me do this, he likes it, I like that he likes it, oh, yes, he’s pushing down into me, yes, I’m going to make him come so hard, so hard._ Keeping a steady pace with his right hand and his mouth, Mike gently moved his finger out, then back in, slowly building Chester up, trying to find just the perfect spot to push him over the glorious edge. He pulled up hard with his mouth, cheeks hollowing against his teeth, when he curled his finger upward and Chester spasmed violently underneath him, crying out, “Mike! Oh, God, Mike, do that again!”

Mike looked up then to watch Chester’s teeth bite down on his bottom lip and he turned his face to the side, hands coming down to burrow into Mike’s hair, pulling the damp black strands between his fingers. The lust driving Mike forward faltered for a moment as he gazed at those teeth, sinking into the delicate flesh of Chester’s bottom lip, his face rapturous, sighs and moans escaping from the back of his throat, Mike’s heart overcome with the beauty of his best friend, his lover, squirming under his touch. He was doing this to him-- he, Mike Shinoda, was turning Chester Bennington into a wanton creature, one who was clearly desiring him, needing him, loving him. It was almost too much to comprehend.

Chester’s pleading voice-- “Mike, Mike, Mike, please, I want to come for you, ahhhhh, God, Mike, do it again!”-- propelled him to push his finger up into Chester’s prostate again, firmly this time; and Chester cried out, chanting Mike’s name, thrusting up into Mike’s waiting mouth, hands pulling Mike in closer and grasping his hair, Mike forcefully sucking and stroking as he felt Chester reach the edge and linger, not coming down and not falling over, suspended, time standing still for moments before he finally came hard into Mike’s mouth, Mike feeling Chester’s body squeeze around his finger as semen hit the back of his throat in thick streams, and he swallowed it down as he felt the ripples weaken, then fade away, leaving Chester breathlessly stroking Mike’s head, limp on the mattress.

One last flick of his tongue over Chester’s tip and Mike eased his finger out, Chester pulling his face up to meet his and melding their lips together, Mike sharing the taste of Chester with him before they broke apart, panting, foreheads pressed together, eyes locked on one another, Mike’s expression full of raging desire and Chester’s full of contentment. _You are so beautiful, Ches, wow._

“Tell me, tell me, Ches, what to do…” Mike breathed, linking their hands together, his heart beating out of control, wanting to be inside of Chester but not wanting to be inside Chester, terrified of making a wrong move, terrified of hurting him, terrified of ruining everything before it could even get started. In Mike’s mind, so much could go wrong. The anxiety and the lust and the love were all battling each other and he couldn’t make a decision, couldn’t decide something as big as whether or not they should cross that last line, one that a mere 48 hours ago hadn’t even been visible from where they were standing. It seemed impossible that they were here, about to leap across, everything else insignificant. “Chester… tell me what you want me to do...”

Saying nothing, Chester reached for the waistband of his boxers, wet and clinging as they were to him, and tugged them down, Mike reaching down to help and then feeling Chester’s cool hand close around his dick. The first stroke closed his eyes, the second brought his forehead down into the crook of Chester’s neck, and Mike could never remember a time in his life he’d been as hard as he was right now, his body screaming for release, his mind frantically trying to figure out how he was going to get there, when Chester’s voice, trembling with desire, told him exactly what he’d been hoping and fearing to hear: “I want you inside of me... I want to feel you, Mikey... it’s going to be so, so good.”

And then it was soft, reassuring kisses to his face as Mike settled between Chester’s thighs, gently moving one knee up and over to create room for Mike’s body, Chester’s hands moving across his brow and cheek, fingertips trying to stroke the worry from his face, whispering assurances as Mike thought he might hyperventilate before he could figure it all out. Hesitating again, his face burning red, he whispered, “Ches, I don’t have any lube, I’m going to hurt you.”

“I do,” Chester breathed, “I’ll go get it, it’s in my bag.”

“What? Why do you have lube, Chester?”

As he slid out from under Mike and started for the adjoining door, Chester looked suggestively over his shoulder, held up his left hand, and grinned, “tours get long without any action, Mikey… lube just helps things along.” He disappeared and Mike heard him rummaging through a bag before reappearing and gazing upon Mike, who was waiting for him, laying on his side, “now, where were we?”

Mike patted the bed next to him and Chester sank down, pressing the bottle into Mike’s hand and resuming his submissive position next to him. Mike traced a hand down Chester’s side, watching his face fall serious again, and his heart squeezed inside his chest as he etched every inch of Chester’s perfection into his artist’s mind, knowing this was the last moment that he would look at him as just his friend. This was life altering, this was going to change everything they knew, everything they had built together, and he was exhilarated and terrified at the same time. 

“There’s no going back from this moment, Ches, this is it. We can’t go back.” His eyes were frantically searching for reassurance as he whispered, “I love you, God help me, I love you so much.” The words came rushing out, and Mike felt a moment of anxious euphoria when, with a hand around the back of Mike’s neck, Chester pulled him close, their foreheads touching, whispering back, “no going back, not now, not ever.” 

Mike poured the contents of the bottle into Chester’s waiting palm, feeling a sense of deja vu as he looked at the lines in Chester’s hand, watching as it curled around his length and coated him with slippery wetness. Chester fell back and Mike placed a gentle kiss on his lips, the lust replaced with tenderness for a moment, Mike reaching between them to bring everything into alignment before bringing his hips forward into Chester’s willing body.

It was strange, the feeling of wanting to press into Chester’s body as quickly and deeply as possible, tempered by the restraint he knew was necessary, especially given that Mike had no idea what was really about to happen. He didn’t really understand that the first minutes for Chester would bring such anguish, tears in his eyes and shuddering deep breaths as Mike carefully held still, biting his lip, arms shaking, battling the urge to just push a little bit more, waiting for Chester’s nod before continuing to sheath himself inside, little by little. Chester’s nails digging into his back, his eyes screwed shut as he willed himself to relax, Mike peppering tiny kisses across his brow and nose. Long, soundless, loud moments passed as Chester’s body opened up to him, air being passed back and forth between their barely touching lips, warm then cool, impossibly intimate, existing within each other, for each other, everything around them fading into a warm gray haze, all Mike could see the deep chocolate brown of Chester’s eyes, pulling him in and down, claiming his heart. His soul. He had been wrong. _Not fucking. We are. Not. Fucking. This is love, this is love, oh, Chester, how have we waited so long for this?_

It seemed to Mike that the pain was fading from Chester’s face and suddenly he felt alive, allowing himself to stop feeling what Chester was feeling and focus on what he was feeling. What he felt was fire, every neuron in his body alight with energy, anxiously guiding him, his hips beginning to pace a slow and torturous rhythm forward toward certain ecstasy. It was intoxicating, and Mike felt lightheaded, like he was having an out of body experience, like he was weightless but also anchored down, drowning but flying, the paradox of his pleasure and Chester’s pain more than his mind could handle at that moment. But there was no sign of any discomfort from Chester now, as he clung to Mike, sighing and moaning and pulling Mike’s hips into him, and Mike was losing himself deeper and deeper in the delicious heat of Chester’s body. _I’m not going to last much longer, God, please, let this last, this is the most amazing thing I have ever felt in my life, Chester, Chester, Chester, I love you, oh my God I love you, I’m sorry, I can’t last anymore._

It was over too soon, Mike spilling his seed into Chester’s waiting body, crying out his name, over and over, as strong hands gripped hips and pulled them up, cascading waves of pleasure crashing over Mike’s head, pulling him under, and he felt like he was drowning in Chester, but Chester was giving him life, and how did he know that he wasn’t dying in the fire right now, but Chester was there holding him and kissing his face and he knew that he was still real, that this was real, that he was deep inside Chester as he came down from the single greatest orgasm of his life, and it was all real, and Chester was real, they were real and they had finally made love and, ohmygod, this was real. 

Mike settled heavily on top of Chester, flushed, sweating, breathless, and Chester’s hands continued to smooth over his back as he lazily kissed Chester’s shoulder, sighing when he reached to slowly pull himself from Chester’s body. “Are you okay,” he murmured against Chester’s shoulder, holding his breath, fearful, hoping he hadn’t lost control and hurt him without knowing it.

Chester pressed a kiss to Mike’s temple and sighed, “wonderful, Mike. I’m wonderful.”

Mike rolled onto his side as fatigue hit him fast and hard- the night before, the performance, the stresses of past few hours catching up in the wake of their lovemaking. He pulled Chester in close again his chest, and felt Chester’s arm wrap around his waist as he closed his eyes, wanting the rapture of the evening to be the last thing on his mind. He swore Chester was already asleep as he tucked a blanket under their chins, and fell into exhausted, dreamless sleep for the rest of the evening.


	9. Rainbows

*** _The four remaining band members turned the corner from the elevator just in time to see Mike and Chester, in the messy embrace of their passionate kiss, disappear into Mike’s hotel room._ ***

Only seconds passed before the four men started talking over each other.

“I _knew_ something was going on with those two!” exclaimed Dave, smacking his hands together and looking at Brad expectantly.

“Was that _Mike and Chester_?” Brad looked like he’d just seen proof of extraterrestrial life.

“Let’s go listen!” Joe whispered urgently, starting toward the end of the hallway, before Rob stepped in front of the group, arms spread wide.

“Nobody is listening to anything,” he said simply, stopping Joe and looking at Dave and Brad. “My room is right here. Everybody in.” Rob slid in the keycard and pushed the door open, looking impassively at the others as they sheepishly entered the room. Closing the door, he turned and looked square at Dave. “What do you mean, you knew something was going on with them? Tell us what you know.”

Brad sat silent, completely dumbfounded by the image of Chester pushing Mike back into the hotel room, hands in his hair, lips locked together. Mike was his best friend. Suddenly he had a feeling that he wasn’t Mike’s best friend anymore, and hadn’t been for a long time. Forty-one years old, and he was just now finding out his childhood friend was… into guys? No, not guys. Mike was into Chester. It didn’t seem so weird when he thought of it that way. Mike and Chester were just… Mike and Chester. He looked over at Dave, who was nervously fidgeting, right hand rubbing the back of his neck as he looked around at the serious faces of his bandmates. 

“Well… Mike’s been acting strange, reacting more than usual to Chester’s flirting. You know how they are together. And just now, in the van, they were holding hands-”

“That doesn’t mean anything,” Brad interrupted, “they’re always doing that. Chester’s afraid of flying, Mike’s always holding his hand on the plane.”

“I bet they’re fucking,” Joe whined, “let’s go listen.”

Rob shot him a stern look. “Nobody is leaving this room right now. Especially not to listen to Mike and Chester… Mike and Chester…” He blushed as he tried to finish the sentence.

“THEY’RE NOT FUCKING,” Brad exclaimed, unwilling to entertain the thought for even a moment.

“Explain that ass comment on stage, then,” Dave continued. “That didn’t sound like Mike’s normal flirting. It sounded… kinda sexy.” 

Rob looked thoughtful for a moment. “Yeah, he did react strangely when Chester grabbed him in the dressing room. And we’ve seen Chester do that hundreds of times. He’s done it to all of us.”

Dave snapped his fingers. “See? It’s weird. And now, them kissing in the hall? I’m not an expert in… dudes... kissing… but that didn’t look like a first kiss to me.”

“He wasn’t listening to me at breakfast this morning, either,” Brad continued the conversation, sounding annoyed. “Mike always listens to me.”

“There’s something else…” Dave continued, hesitating again, and the other three guys turned their eyes to him expectantly. “I wanted to go for a run before the show with Chester, and he wasn’t in his room. So I figured he was with Mike, which he was, but when Mike answered the door, he was acting like he’d just been caught stealing. Hand in his pocket, I’m sure he was trying to… cover things up, if you know what I mean.” Brad’s face turned red as he couldn’t escape the image of Mike trying to camouflage a hard-on the way they had in high school. “And… you guys... _they have connecting rooms._ ”

Everyone stopped for a moment from their own personal freak out over the new developments, and considered that information. It was still and silent in the hotel room as each man came to the same conclusion.

“How long… how long do you think this has been going on?” Brad asked quietly, denial receding. 

Dave shrugged his shoulders. “With those guys? It could have been going on all along. Since we started out. You remember how enamored Mike was with Chester back in the beginning… that’s never really subsided, and Chester worships Mike. This might have been going on behind our backs for years.”

Rob sighed. “I think… I think they would have said something. I can’t believe- I _won’t_ believe they’ve been hiding it from us until we talk to them about it. No way they wouldn’t tell us.”

“Well, there’s one way to find out,” Joe grinned evilly, starting for the door.

“NO!” three voices yelled in unison, and Joe sat down, defeated. “I guess,” he said, “we can just ask them about it tomorrow.”

All the guys nodded thoughtfully. Then Brad made a face of abject horror and looked over at Rob. “Can I stay here tonight? My room shares a wall with theirs.”

Rob nodded, Joe seemed disappointed, and they all agreed to hang out a bit longer in Rob’s room, until whatever activities might be occurring down the hallway ended.

**********

All around, for as far as Mike could see, was endless white. It was a dream he'd experienced many times over the years. Snow and ice were everywhere he looked as he turned slowly, feeling as though he were trapped in a snowglobe, the sky crystalline clear blue. He was lost, no landmarks to be seen, just flat, cold, snowy white land and a vast expanse of sky, and he was cold. _Where are my gloves? Did I lose them? Did I ever have any? Where am I? I just want to go home. Where is Chester?_ He knew that he should keep moving, that stopping in this frozen landscape would likely mean certain death, so he trudged along, feeling deeply sorry for himself as time passed and he remained on flat, unmarked terrain, bitterly cold. Despite the hopeless feeling that he would never find his way settling in his brain, he continued onward. 

He was sure he’d been moving for hours without seeing anything when he suddenly saw a black speck on the far away horizon. Hope stirred in his heart and his feet picked up the pace, and he watched as the black speck grew larger and larger, until he could make out the shape of a… dragon? It looked like a stuffed dragon that his youngest daughter had, glittering in the white space, the colors blinding his eyes after so much stark whiteness. Mike wasn’t sure if he should run or play dead, and his mind raced trying to remember what his park ranger training had taught him about dragons. Were the rainbow dragons the friendly ones or the ones that would eat you? _Chester would know! Where is Chester! Do I trust rainbows or not!_

Just as Mike decided to lay down and play dead, the dragon called his name. Mike was confused. Dragons could talk? He didn’t remember that from training. He stood perfectly still as the dragon came right up to him and looked him over, and Mike was certain that the dragon was in fact going to eat him-- but all that happened was the dragon exhaled warm breath over his face, bringing Mike’s ears and nose back from frosty numbness. The dragon’s breath felt amazing, and Mike was grateful, trying to get closer to the warmth, hoping to thaw a little more. “Doesn’t that feel good, Mikey?” the dragon asked, and Mike’s eyes snapped open.

There was Chester, balled up in all of the sheets and the comforter from the bed, breathing mere inches from his face, his cover-hog tendencies leaving Mike naked in the freezing cold hotel room. Here was the dragon, he realized, amused, shaking the crazy dream from his head as he reached to run a light fingertip down sleeping Chester’s nose. He was caught between contented bliss and anxious dread, the activities of the previous night stirring butterflies in his stomach even as the anticipation of returning home made him queasy. It was an unfortunate combination. 

With the comforter pulled tightly in his hands under his chin, all that was visible to Mike was Chester’s face, dark lashes resting on a pale cheek, lips parted slightly, his breathing slow and even. As much as Mike wanted to lay next to Chester and watch him sleep, he was freezing cold, so he reached under his chin and tugged on the comforter, trying to take it from Chester’s grip. A tiny furrow flashed between Chester’s eyebrows as he slept on and held the comforter tighter. “Chester,” Mike breathed out quietly as he tugged on the comforter again, “Ches… c’mon, Ches, share a little.” He pulled harder this time and was rewarded with Chester’s beautiful brown eyes opening a crack, unfocused, as Mike moved part of the comforter over his body and snuggled in close.

“Mmmmm… morning, Mikey,” Chester mumbled, sliding his arm around Mike’s waist and pulling him closer. Their legs tangled under the sheets and as Mike started to warm up, he shared what he could remember of his dream. Chester feathered his hands along Mike’s back, hip, side, snickering when Mike recalled wondering if rainbow dragons were trustworthy. “Of course they are! Anything rainbow should be a sign, that’s my favorite color!”

“Ches, you know rainbow isn’t a color.”

“Sure it is. It’s _my_ color. And glitter. Lots of glitter.”

“You’re always glittering, Ches,” Mike breathed, running his lips along Chester’s neck. “You take all the light in the world and reflect it back for everyone else to see.” Chester arched his neck back under Mike’s lips, pulling Mike’s hips toward him gently, bumping together their sudden shared arousal, causing Mike to groan softly as he nipped his teeth along Chester’s earlobe. “I could have you again right now, you know,” his breath hot against Chester’s skin.

Chester rocked against him again before sighing, “we can’t, Mike, we’re due for breakfast and the ride to the airport soon.”

 _The airport. I don’t want to go home. For the first time ever, I don’t want to go home. I don’t want to leave him. What will he say if I tell him that? Will me miss me as much? What if… what if it doesn’t upset him as much as it upsets me?_ “Ugh,” Mike mumbled, scared of Chester’s response, “I don’t want to go home, Ches.”

His words were met with a sigh, Chester’s hips halting and his face turning to Mike’s. “I know. Me either. I could just stay here with you, I can’t believe I’m _with_ you… the way we’re together now. I just never thought…” his voice trailed off as Mike took a deep breath, and kissed a trail along his jawline.

“I know... I still can’t believe this is real. All this time… all this time we could have been together, and you never said anything. You knew how I felt, you were kissing me in my sleep for Christ’s sake, why didn’t you just say something?” 

With eyes closed as Mike kissed down his neck and across his chest, he responded, “I didn’t want to ruin what I had. I was afraid you wouldn’t… want me… if you knew what we’d been doing. I let it go on too long, and I’m sorry I did, but I was afraid of how you’d react. I couldn’t figure out… still can’t figure out… how this fits into our lives right now. I wanted everything. I wanted you at night and I want my family in the day. I want to be with you and Talinda, and my kids. I can’t explain it to you, I don’t think. This isn’t wrong, Mike. This is us. But I don’t think everyone else will see it that way.”

“That’s why everyone else doesn’t need to know,” Mike said seriously, peering up at Chester anxiously. “We agreed, Ches, this is between us.” He sat up then, running both hands through his messy hair, causing it to fluff out in all directions. “I’m serious, Chester, I don’t think I can handle any drama right now, with Anna, T… the guys,” he gestured toward the door. “The guys will lose it.” 

“More than our _wives_?” Chester asked, sitting up as well, unsure why Mike was starting to panic. “Mike,” he reached out for Mike’s hand, weaving their fingers together, “hey, it’s ok. You’re right, I agreed. This is ours, only ours. It just sucks that the next time we’ll be _alone_ ” -the way Chester said ‘alone’ caused a shiver to run down Mike’s spine- “is two weeks from now. It’s going to feel like forever.” Mike nodded quickly. “But… now we know. We both know. I love you, and you love me, and _this_ ” he held up their linked hands, “isn’t going away. We just have to figure out how to make it work. Nothing good would come of anyone else finding out, that’s for sure.” 

Mike nodded again, feeling the anxiety dissipate slightly. _It will be ok. Chester says it’s going to be ok. So it will. It has to be._

“C’mon,” Chester said, pulling on Mike’s hand, “we are supposed to be downstairs in twenty minutes. Good thing you had that weird ass dream,” he smiled broadly at Mike, “or we’d be fucking late. Go, get in the shower, I’m getting in mine. Go!” he said, pushing Mike and his pleading expression toward his bathroom door, “if we shower together we’ll miss the flight!”

Mike glanced at Chester’s retreating form in all its naked glory, saying under his breath, “maybe I _want_ to miss the flight.”

“I can hear you, Shinoda,” Chester called from the other room, “get in the shower-- we’re not missing breakfast OR the flight! I’m not dealing with your hangry ass for 11 hours on the plane!” With that, he closed the door to the bathroom, and Mike reached to turn on his shower, realizing then just how hungry he really was.


	10. Confrontation

“You look divine, you vain mothafucker, let’s go!”

Mike caught Chester’s eyes in the bathroom mirror, hands full of gel as he worked to place every strand of his black hair _exactly the way he wanted it,_ thinking it must be nice to not have to mess with hair styles when running late. _I could just put on a hat. Chester’s lucky, maybe I should just shave my head, too._ Before he could mention the idea to Chester in jest, just to see his reaction, he felt Chester on his back, hands sneaking up the front of his shirt, brushing over his nipples and causing a sharp intake of leftover steamy shower air. 

“Mmmmm, you smell so good. Fuck breakfast, fuck everything, let’s stay here.”

Rinsing his hands in the sink, Mike smiled at Chester’s reflection and batted his hands away. “No way, you made me get up, now my hair is done, I’m up for the rest of the day. You’re gonna have to wait.” He turned around to face Chester, smirking, trying to ignore the way he was growing hard again under his ripped jeans. 

The way Chester’s eyes slowly raked over Mike’s clothes, taking in every detail of his appearance, caused a wave of heat to dance over Mike’s body. “But you look and smell so yummy,” Chester whined, moving in for a kiss, feeling Mike’s arousal against his hip, his petulant expression turning into a grin. “See? You want me, Shinoda.”

“Never said I didn’t,” Mike responded, crushing his mouth against Chester’s, his hand at the back of Chester’s head, pushing them together forcefully for hot, breathless moments, before he broke the kiss and finished, “but we’ve got breakfast and a plane to catch. You said so yourself.” He grabbed Chester’s wrist and tugged him toward the door, Chester following with a sulk. _It’s a good thing one of us seems to have some sense at all times. If we both lose it at the same time, we’ll never get anything done._

Gratefully, the elevator ride was quick, not giving Chester time to attack again, and Mike had already turned his thoughts to coffee and bacon when the doors opened, Chester stepping out first and turning toward the hotel restaurant. “Looks like we’re last here again,” he remarked, and Mike grimaced. He hated being last, he ended up having to sit with his back to the entryway, which made him restless the entire meal. 

Everyone else was already seated, coffee and tea cups in front of them, Brad predictably behind a newspaper, when Chester slid into his seat with Mike right beside him. “Two coffees, please, black,” Mike responded when the overly attentive waitress asked for their drink order as soon as they sat down. 

It was strangely silent at the table, Mike noticed, apprehension crawling across his stomach as he looked at the three guys whose faces he could see. When his eyes met Dave’s, the bassist’s skipped away quickly toward Rob, and when Mike looked at Rob, the drummer’s expression was serene, devoid of clues. Joe, on the other hand, was practically leering at Mike, and just as Mike was about to ask Joe what was up, the deejay’s mouth opened with, “sleep well last night?”

Fidgeting with two beaded bracelets, Chester cocked his head to the side, sizing up Joe’s comment as Mike froze under the deejay’s stare. _What. The. Fuck. Is. Going. On._ “I slept _great_ last night! Show wore me out! How ‘bout you, Mikey?” Chester glanced at Mike, whose mouth had gone dry as Joe’s eyes didn’t back down. He reached for his water glass and took a sip before shakily responding, “yeah, yeah, me too. Show was awesome!”

From behind his paper, Brad commented, “you guys sure took off once we got back here.”

Mike shifted uncomfortably in his chair, afraid to look at Chester, and was grateful when the waitress reappeared, setting down two coffee cups and asking for their order. It gave his frantic mind time to reach for a plausible answer. _Lyrics! Of course, lyrics. We had to get back and write down the lyrics we’d been talking about. Lyrics._ The waitress had barely stepped away when Mike blurted out, “lyrics.”

Still behind his newspaper, Brad repeated drily, “lyrics.”

Chester stepped on Mike’s foot under the table.

Mike felt sweat forming on his upper lip. _We’re always working on lyrics. That’s not unusual. The way you’re acting is, though, get yourself together, Shinoda._ Feigning calmness, Mike continued, “yeah, Chester and I had a great idea after the show, we wanted to get it down before we forgot.”

Brad continued in the same dry tone, newspaper still covering his face, “isn’t that what you have phones for, to record that shit when inspiration strikes?”

“Sure, yeah, but-”

“I needed my guitar,” Chester interrupted, eyes moving in Mike’s direction again, looking much more relaxed than Mike at the line of questioning from their guitarist. 

“ _You_ needed your guitar?” Brad asked, and the newspaper finally lowered, his eyes piercing. “Was _your_ guitar in _Mike’s_ room?” 

All of the movement at the table stopped for a moment as Chester met Brad’s gaze straight on, the others looking on with anticipation, Mike feeling a slow heat crawl up his skin and settle, red, in his face. _They know. Somehow, they know. Oh, God, Chester, what are you going to say?!_

“Maybe,” Joe taunted, “you were looking for your guitar in, say, Mike’s mouth?”

Mike thought he might pass out, he wanted to crawl under the table and disappear, but Chester just laughed, “what? Joe, have you been smoking weed again?” He took a sip from his coffee, challenging Brad or Joe to ask another question.

Rob sighed, having already had enough. “We saw you guys, Chester. Going into Mike’s room. We saw you… saw you guys…” he was struggling with words to finish his sentence and a faint blush was creeping over his skin. 

“Kissing! Clawing at each other like animals, all up on each other!” Joe finished, obviously not embarrassed to call it the way he had seen it the night before. 

Chester ran a hand weakly over his head, wishing for a moment that there was something there to play with. He wasn’t sure what to say. He’d been caught in a number of compromising situations over the years, and they had all been shrugged off by his bandmates as typical Chester exuberance; but now he was dragging perfect, honest, straight-as-an-arrow Mike Shinoda down with him. He didn’t know whether to continue to deny or just come out and own up to what the guys had seen. Looking at Mike, he saw that his skin was strangely pale for him, a fine sheen of sweat over his face, his eyes panicked. Mike caught Chester’s eyes and they looked at each other wordlessly as the other four guys waited.

_What do we say, Ches?_

_We’re going to have to tell them the truth. You know that._

_I don’t want to! We promised! This is just ours!_

_They already know._

_They don’t know anything!_

_They know. It will be okay. They’ll understand._

_They WON’T understand. They won’t!_

_Tell them, Mike, you do it. It needs to come from you._

Mike ran a hand over his face wearily, as though the effort cost him all the energy he had remaining in his entire body. _It’s not fair. We’ve had two nights together, that’s it! And now it’s all ruined, fuck!_ He looked around the table at his four bandmates, his eyes finally coming back to Chester’s, who reached toward him and covered Mike’s shaking hand with his own. It was a possessive, reassuring gesture, bringing Mike enough strength to say, looking down at the table, “yeah. We kissed.”

The air at the table was explosive, everyone talking at once.

“What the FUCK, Mike, are you serious?”

“Why? Why do you need to kiss each other? You’re both _married!_ ”

“Was it just the one kiss? What happened after the door closed? You guys fucked, didn’t you? I know you did, don’t deny it!”

“Chester, seriously? You couldn’t keep your hands off him anymore, could you?”

Grasping Mike’s hand tightly, Chester silenced them all with his other hand and a comment, “it was just a kiss, you guys. Nothing more,” he emphasized, looking at Joe, who rolled his eyes in disbelief. “You know, post-show adrenaline, all that.” He looked over at Mike, who was struggling with the commotion, looking dangerously close to collapse. “Mike? You okay?”

Nodding, Mike reached for his water, taking another quick sip before he said, “we were just caught up in the moment, that’s all.”

Nobody at the table seemed to believe him. Everyone glanced at each other and the silence grew uncomfortable. Mike was wishing the waitress would come back. Soon.

“How many moments have there been, Mike? Because that sure as hell didn’t look like the first time you guys have been ‘caught up in the moment,’” Brad asked, using his fingers for air quotations at the end of his statement.

“I saw you in the van,” Dave spoke up, quietly. “I saw how you guys were looking at each other. Don’t lie to us, please,” he continued, and the other guys nodded. “This isn’t something you guys can hide from us. This could affect all of us, the band… what is going on with you two?”

Chester sighed, looking down at his fingers on top of Mike’s, laced in between, squeezing them gently. “Well, we’ve been sleeping together for years--”

“WHAT?” Brad exploded, standing up, his napkin falling to the floor. “YEARS?! Mike! Jesus, what the _FUCK_!”

“Sit _down_ ,” Rob hissed, pulling Brad back into his seat forcefully, disapproval all over this face as the only other people in the restaurant, an elderly couple in the corner, looked over at the sudden outburst. “Brad, get yourself together.”

“I _won’t_ ,” Brad hissed back, “this is _bullshit_ , Rob, seriously, _years?!_ ” His accusing eyes darted between Mike and Chester, and it dawned on Mike that Brad was taking the phrase ‘sleeping together’ literally.

“No! I mean, yes, but not how you think,” Mike started, glaring at Chester for his careless choice of words. Chester merely shrugged as Mike continued, his voice low, “not… not _sex_ , but just sleeping in the bed together.” Dave settled back in his chair, arms crossed, waiting; Mike couldn’t look at Brad’s angry face or Joe’s interested stare, so he landed on Rob’s patient, concerned face and continued, “it just started by accident, we’d be hanging out watching tv or talking, or writing lyrics-” Brad snorted at the word ‘lyrics’- “and sometimes fall asleep together, and then it just became a habit. You know, on tour, what it’s like.”

“Yeah,” Brad sneered, “I miss my wife while we’re gone. I call her and jerk myself off. I don’t show up in Dave’s room asking for a cuddle!”

Dave glanced at Brad, unsure how he got involved in Brad’s rant, then back at Mike and Chester. “Tours can feel lonely,” he agreed diplomatically, “but how in the world did you manage to keep that from us? You say that’s been going on for years, seems like one of us would have noticed one of you coming or going from the other’s room.”

Chester swallowed a mouthful of coffee and responded, flippantly, “oh, Jim’s been getting us connecting rooms for years.”

It was Mike’s turn to step on Chester’s foot. Chester looked at him impassively. 

_Doesn’t matter if they know that. That’s the least of our worries._

_Still. You don’t have to give all the details._

_I’m not giving them all the details. It’s not like I gave them a play by play of how good you are in bed._

Mike flushed under Chester’s gaze as his eyes slipped to Mike’s lips, and Mike knew in his mind Chester was seeing those lips wrapped around his dick, his mouth sucking, licking, stroking-

“Mike. Jesus, can you guys stop staring at each other for a second?”

It was clear to Mike that Dave had repeated his name. _For fuck’s sake, I can’t stay focused on anything anymore._ “What?” he asked, tearing his eyes away from Chester’s openly lustful expression.

“Jim knows?” Dave asked again.

“Knows what?” Mike and Chester asked together.

Everyone at the table sighed. “Jim knows about you two,” Dave said, gesturing between the two vocalists. 

“There’s nothing to know,” Chester responded simply, “so what if we wanted connecting rooms. We _all_ used to do that, back in the beginning. Just because you guys grew out of it doesn’t mean we had to also.”

“But, Chester,” Dave pointed out, “we were all single back in the beginning. Now everyone’s married-” Rob held up a hand, shaking his head- “or at least committed, we can’t just be sharing rooms and sleeping in the same bed and… _kissing_ our brothers. It’s not right.”

Chester was defiant now. “Who says it isn’t right? How is it any different from hugging, if that’s what we both want? It’s just closeness, it’s just another way to be connected to each other. If you guys hadn’t seen us, you’d never have known. That’s how this needs to end- like you guys never saw it. There’s nothing to worry about. It’s not going to affect the band.”

“That kind of intimacy is for your _wife_ ,” Brad insisted. 

Rob, who had been silent for most of the exchange, finally contributed to the conversation. “I think… I think we just need to let it go, guys. If Chester and Mike insist that everything is normal, then we have no choice but to go on as we have. And that includes keeping this within the band,” he said, looking meaningfully at each of his bandmates for their agreement. Brad was fuming but gave a curt nod of acquiescence, and Rob continued, “with the understanding that if anything changes, we’re the first to know.” His gaze stopped at Mike, and it was not lost on him that Mike’s eyes skipped away guiltily. Rob knew the best way to get the truth from Mike was to pretend to believe his lies. The guilt would crush him and they’d be in a band meeting within days of being back in LA, Rob was sure of it.

With perfect timing, the waitress reappeared, and as the plates were set in front of each band member, silence settled over the table; Brad glowering through knitted brows at Mike and Chester; Mike looking down into his plate of bacon and eggs, hand still linked in Chester’s; Chester looking defiantly around the table, challenging anyone to call him a liar; Dave carefully cutting French toast into small identical triangles; Joe sloppily adding jelly to a buttered piece of toast, licking his fingers; and Rob, peacefully stirring granola and fruit into his yogurt, knowing it was only a matter of time until the truth came out.


	11. Heartbeats

As soon as the hotel room door closed behind them after breakfast, Mike turned on Chester, eyes blazing. “Why? Why did you tell them? You _promised_ me, Chester!” Chester’s nonchalant shrug just made Mike angrier, and he grabbed Chester by the shoulders, backing him into the wall. “You swore to me, this was between us, only ours. Why did you tell them?”

“What was I going to say, Mike? They saw us! How was I supposed to explain my hand down your pants in the hall? With _lyrics_?” Chester spat the last word at Mike as if the idea of writing lyrics last night was absolutely ridiculous. Their faces inches apart, Chester could feel Mike’s angry breath heavy over his face, but he didn’t turn away. He met Mike’s furious stare with growing impatience as Mike pressed him into the wall, and watched as the anger slowly faded into something else, something desperate, something that caused Mike to slam his mouth into Chester’s with urgency.

Shoving Chester firmly against the wall, he felt Chester grab at his chest and lift his legs up to hook around Mike’s waist as he attacked Chester’s mouth with a mixture of anger and desire, the line between the two very fine and dissolving as the seconds passed. His lips were rough against Chester’s, his fingers digging into Chester’s skin, holding him motionless against the wall as he pressed in, wanting to hurt Chester a little bit to soothe the ache in his heart. _It isn’t fair, I want this, I want him, I don’t want to go home, I don’t want anyone to know, what if this is it? What if everyone finds out and it ends everything? The band, God, what would I do without the band, without Chester? Fuck!_

Mike slid his hands around to grab Chester’s ass and pull him against his body while he pressed him into the wall, and when Chester moaned into Mike’s open mouth, he stopped thinking rationally. The morning’s pent up desires and his frustration and anger over the disclosures at breakfast gave Mike a singular thought- he needed to be inside Chester, now, it couldn’t wait and he didn’t give a _fuck_ that they were supposed to be in the van in fifteen minutes. He lifted Chester from the wall and carried him to the bed, slamming his back down onto the mattress and undoing his belt, discarding Chester’s jeans and briefs in one hasty motion before ripping his jeans from his own body. Chester’s eyes shone with undisguised lust as Mike fell back down on him, Chester’s hands pulling Mike’s flannel off his shoulders as Mike pulled Chester’s t-shirt over his head, and it was all a frantic mess of removing each other’s clothes as quickly as possible while grinding their bodies together, desperately seeking a quick release of tension and frustration. 

Foreplay wasn’t even a consideration as Chester poured lube into Mike’s hand, watching as Mike covered himself and then moved to stretch Chester with his fingers. Penetration was swift and Chester cried out, Mike wasn’t sure if it was surprise, pain, desire, or a combination of all three, and he didn’t wait to find out. One hand around Chester’s length and the other on his hip, Mike brought them both off simultaneously, shuddering and rocking together, breathless, sweaty and messy, less than five minutes after they’d started. As Mike collapsed on the bed next to Chester, he felt suddenly ashamed of himself, his frustration no excuse for treating Chester so poorly, and he covered his eyes with his arm as he felt tears threaten. He felt Chester next to him, heard him breathing heavily, and he was a mess, mentally and physically, as he blindly reached out for Chester, his voice breaking as he offered quietly, “I’m sorry.”

There was silence for a heartbeat, before Chester said quietly, “they don’t know anything, Mike. They saw us kissing. They know about our rooms. That’s all they know. They aren’t going to say anything, you saw them, Rob had everyone agree.”

Mike sighed heavily as Chester’s hand linked into his.

“It’s going to be ok, Mike.”

“I’m sorry,” Mike said again, low, rough, tears audible in his voice. He tugged at Chester’s hand weakly and Chester rolled toward him willingly, brushing his free hand across Mike’s cheek and pushing his arm away from his eyes. Tears fell from the corners of Mike’s eyes and Chester leaned down, kissing one away as Mike whispered, “I’m sorry if I hurt you. I’m just so… I don’t… I’m scared, Chester… and I’m sorry.”

“Shhhhh, stop apologizing. I could have stopped you.” Mike shook his head weakly, and Chester continued, “it’s been a crazy 24 hours. There’s a lot going on, but I promise you, we’re going to figure this all out. I told you last night, no going back. Not now, not ever. I’m not going to break that promise.” Mike bit his lip, looking up at the sincerity in Chester’s face, wishing he could feel as certain about their future. “Now,” Chester grinned, “as much as I’d like to stay right here and take a little more time appreciating your hot lovin’” -Mike grimaced- “we’ve got a plane to catch.”

“You’re too forgiving. You’re too good to me.” Mike turned and caught Chester’s lips softly, all of the anger gone, their kiss flavored with tenderness and Mike’s remorse. Even as Chester sank wholeheartedly into the kiss, Mike still wondered at how out of control he’d felt. Everything that had changed in the past two days had brought a depth to his emotions that Mike wasn’t used to processing through, and he was worried about the ferociousness he’d taken Chester with just minutes ago. It wasn’t like him, to be so rough, to be so out of his own mind. _Ches, what are you doing to me?_ Their kiss broke and Chester smiled, and Mike felt his heart twist with love and regret.

He knew they had to get up, get moving, the guys would be waiting and they could not be late, or even last, this time. It was expected. They had to prove them wrong, even though Joe, at least, was spot on. Chester pulled him up from the bed, and they moved to clean up before heading downstairs, where the guys, the van, the plane, the reality of going home was waiting.

**********

“ _Mike_ ”, Chester hushed into his ear, “ _these are the seats that turn into beds._ ”

Mike shook his head with a smile as he stowed their bags overhead, feeling Chester right behind him. “I love British Airways!” Chester exclaimed for everyone’s benefit, looking around the first class cabin that was occupied only by Linkin Park. Putting his lips next to Mike’s ear again, he whispered, “I won’t let you tell me no once the others are asleep.” Mike felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up at Chester’s seductive tone, and he knew he was in trouble. Once Chester had an idea in his head, he wouldn’t stop until Mike went along with whatever he’d come up with. 

“Ches, I doubt everyone will fall asleep. It’s ten am. We land in LA at one pm local time. If we sleep on the plane none of us will ever sleep tonight.” Mike was trying to reason with Chester, who dismissed his logic with the wave of a hand. Anticipation glittered on his face as he winked at Mike, taking the seat next to him and opening his fuzzy travel blanket. Sighing, Mike sat down too and Chester immediately grabbed his hand, carefully placing them on top of the blanket as Brad settled into the seat across the aisle and scowled in their direction. _What is his problem all of a sudden? Everyone knows Chester hates flying. We always hold hands for takeoff. Always._

Brad was still on edge from breakfast, not able to shake the anger he felt at Mike for keeping a secret as huge as _fucking Chester_ from him. He knew Mike was lying from the way he moved his hands, touching his face that certain way when he wasn’t being truthful, same as he had since middle school. He couldn’t understand why his band’s vocalists had decided to cross the thin line they’d been dancing around for years, and he wasn’t interested in talking to Mike about it right now. He knew Mike had seen him frowning in his direction, but he still felt too betrayed to care.

 _I hate it when Brad is mad. We’re going to have to talk when we get home, I’ll have to give him time to cool off. I don’t even know why he’s so mad. Just because I kissed Chester? Is he jealous or something? He needs to stop being such a baby._ Mike’s attention was turned back to Chester as he heard his lover’s exclamation, “Mike, let’s watch a movie together!” Chester was so easy to please at times, and Mike hoped a movie would distract him from the reclining seats. At least for a little while.

*****

They were eight hours and several movies into the flight when Chester stood up, dropping Mike’s hand and stretching his arms above his head. Mike couldn’t help but notice how the movement exposed a pale strip of Chester’s skin above the waistband of his jeans, the top of his briefs showing pink above the denim. _I wish I could drag my tongue across that skin right now, damn! Why does he always have to look so fucking sexy? I know he’s warm right there, I just want to taste him, this is such a long flight._ Mike frowned as he remembered that even when the flight was over, he couldn’t have what he wanted. Chester would go home to his family and Mike to his. There would be a day or two of reassimilation into their regular lives, waking up at reasonable times, playing with the kids, refereeing arguments, being with his wife… _Anna. Jesus, Anna. I have to stop thinking about Chester all the time. We’ve got two weeks at home, I need to be present._ He sighed, and Chester looked down at him, eyes unfocused, reaching to run a fingertip down the side of Mike’s face. It sent sparks through Mike’s stomach. “Ches…”

“Hmmmm?” Chester responded lazily, warmth across his features as he gazed down at Mike, tracing his bottom lip with his fingertip. 

“Can you see everyone else?” Mike whispered, watching Chester take a quick glance around the cabin before nodding. “Are they sleeping?”

“Everyone but Rob,” Chester whispered, sitting back down and immediately moving a hand under his blanket and onto Mike’s thigh. “And he’s alllllll the way in the front corner.”

“God, Ches, I want you so fucking bad. Being on this plane sucks,” Mike both whined and whispered into Chester’s ear.

Chester smirked, “you’re insatiable, Shinoda. Insatiable. Shinoda. Insatiable,” he giggled, “try saying that 5 times fast. Insatiable Shinoda, Insatiable Shinoda, Insatia-” Mike’s lips fell over Chester’s as he kept repeating his personal tongue twister, Mike wanting to shut him up for a minute. He was successful in quieting him, but felt Chester’s hand creep over and flatten against the hardening bulge in his jeans, and it was all he could do not to moan out loud on the plane. Being noisy wouldn’t do at all.

“Ches, stop,” he mumbled in Chester’s ear, not meaning what he was saying at all. “Chester, I mean it.”

The movement stopped for a moment as Chester’s eyes flicked over to Brad, fast asleep, and a devilish smile spread over his face. “Mmm, Mikey, don’t tell me you want me to stop. I can tell you want me to keep going.” He squeezed the enticing bulge and a tiny gasp escaped Mike’s lips. “And you know the thrill of possibly getting caught is turning you on, don’t deny it.” Chester finished his whisper by blowing gently into Mike’s ear and a shiver floated down his spine. 

Mike looked away from Chester’s excited face and glanced around the cabin. Nobody could see them, except Brad. But Brad was asleep and Chester’s hand felt so good, and it was very unlike Mike to allow himself to get caught up in such risky behavior, but he was mad at Brad anyway, for being mad about practically nothing, and so what difference would it make it he woke up and got an eyeful of something to really be mad about? Mike kept rationalizing his behavior as Chester unbuttoned his jeans and slipped his hand inside Mike’s boxers, warm skin coming into contact with warm skin, his thumb skimming over the slit in Mike’s dick, collecting the precum already there and smearing it around slowly. Holding his breath, Mike glanced back over at Brad, decided he was still sleeping soundly enough, and turned back to face Chester, neediness written all over his face.

It was all the invitation Chester needed to continue stroking Mike’s length, suppressing his desire to laugh as he watched Mike first struggle to remain silent, then grow frustrated at the limited movement being made inside his pants, reaching under the blanket to boldly lower both his jeans and boxers to give Chester more access. Both hands gripping the armrests of the seat, Mike was practically panting as Chester continued the risky handjob, their eyes locked into each other’s while Chester quickly brought Mike close before leaning over and kissing him ever so softly, murmuring against his lips, “I love you, you know.”

Mike came into Chester’s fuzzy blanket, biting his bottom lip so hard he was surprised he didn’t draw blood. The exhilaration of being so brazen, _with Chester_ , on the plane in full view of their bandmates had the blood pounding through Mike’s veins and he could hear his heart beating in his ears as he came down from the high. He felt Chester wiping the cum from his stomach while he sat, head resting heavily on the back of the seat, marvelling that he had participated in something so crazy, so out of character. That was two unShinoda-like activities in one day. 

“I told you, you wouldn’t be able to tell me no,” Chester breathed in his ear, “you better put your pants back on before I fold up this blanket.” 

Wiggling back into his pants was easy, but Mike then made a critical error. As Chester folded his mess into the blanket and moved to put it away, Mike stood to zip his fly- right in front of Brad’s open eyes.

Blushing, Mike moved toward the lavatory, and Brad’s gaze settled on Chester, who met his stare with a cheeky grin and asked, “did you get a good nap, Braddles?”

Brad glanced at Mike’s retreating back, suspicious of the pair but having no actual evidence to confirm what his gut was telling him-- that his bandmates had gotten into it on the plane. Narrowing his eyes at Chester, he responded, “yeah, just great.”

Chester settled back into his seat, grinning, “maybe you’d sleep better if you reclined your seat. See? So comfy,” he said as he pressed the button to transform his seat into a bed. He closed his eyes with a satisfied smile, settling in for a nap of his own, waiting for Mike to return.

*********

The remainder of the flight was uneventful. Brad spent the rest of the time in the air with headphones on, binge watching some ridiculous tv show Mike couldn’t see from where he was sitting. When Mike returned from the lavatory, Brad didn’t even glance in his direction. He knew Brad well enough to know he just needed time, and with Chester relaxed in the seat next to him, Mike decided to not press the issue with Brad and just take a quick nap. _I’ll regret this later tonight, but right now… right now I just want to close my eyes for a minute. I won’t sleep long._

He woke up as he felt Chester’s hand slipping into his own. They were about to land, Chester had already returned his seat to the upright position, and Mike could hear the flight attendant asking everyone to fix their seats and prepare for landing. He hadn’t meant to sleep so long, but he was honestly worn out from the past two days. The realization that the flight was almost over slammed into his consciousness and he felt anxiety grip him. He’d wasted the last few precious hours with Chester sleeping. Their bandmates were bustling with quiet activity and excitement, everyone ready to see their wives and children again. Even Chester was ramped up, and Mike felt a wave of nausea hit him. _He’s acting like nothing has changed between us, and all I can think is how am I supposed to kiss my wife now, after kissing him?_

He squeezed Chester’s hand, and Chester looked at him, the sparkle in his eyes dissipating at the pain he read in Mike’s. Looking around, Chester decided a kiss was out of the question, so he simply squeezed Mike’s hand in return and mouthed, “it’s ok.” Brad stashed the headphones in his bag, toeing it under the seat, and glanced in their direction, scowling again at their linked hands. Mike sighed and leaned his head back in the seat, waiting to feel the wheels of the plane on the ground. _One step closer to home, without you, Ches._

The band were first off the plane, getting the privilege of exiting straight off and not having to make their way through the afternoon LAX crowd. Mike and Chester were last, hands still linked, and Chester saw his opportunity. He turned, planting a quick kiss right on Mike’s lips, backing away quickly and ducking through the exit door as Mike whispered, “I love you, too, Ches.”

Taking a deep breath, he let his hand fall away from Chester’s as he stepped through the door and made his way down the steps onto the tarmac, toward the vans where their wives were waiting.


	12. Grand Canyon

Mike was restless, unable to sleep. The first night home was usually bad, but this was ridiculous.

The afternoon slowed to a drag after the flurry of activity when they’d reached the vans had passed. It seemed that there were scantily clad women everywhere, latching on to the men they’d missed over the past eight weeks. While Talinda always looked as though she were ready for a night out, Mike was surprised to see Anna in a more revealing outfit than usual, and he was fairly certain Talinda had something to do with that. He had to turn away as she greeted Chester with her hands in both rear jean pockets, pulling him close and possessively kissing him the way Mike imagined he’d kissed Chester that very morning. Jealousy washed over him even as he tried to greet his own wife warmly, smiling at the pink tips in her hair and moving in for a soft kiss. They had never been a particularly demonstrative couple in public, and it didn’t bother Anna that their reunion kiss had lacked passion. What bothered her was that her husband’s eyes followed Chester as soon as they broke apart.

_Wow, that’s so… different than I remember. She’s so soft, I feel like I could break her if I kissed her the way I’ve been kissing Chester._ As the sweet kiss for his wife ended, Mike’s eyes left Anna’s face and landed on Chester, and he was annoyed to see Chester laughing with his wife, holding her against his body as she squeezed his perfect little ass in her hands, the private conversation they were having obvious to everyone. Mike had grabbed Anna’s hand and pulled her toward the van before he said or did something he would regret. _Chester is just a better actor than me, that’s all. I have to do better. I have to keep this secret, I’m not going to be the one to ruin everything._

He stumbled as he climbed over the seat, Anna close behind, and when she was in the van next to him, he pulled her into his lap, pressing her hips into his and seeking her lips urgently. His wife was more than happy to reciprocate, the concern she felt moments earlier dissipating under Mike’s heavy kisses, her hands moving up to twist in the back of his hair. He was concentrating so hard on kissing his wife that he missed the sound of Chester and Talinda taking their seats in front of them, until Talinda cleared her throat in the most obvious way. Anna had pulled away from him, her cheeks flushed and lips glistening with a secret smile, and Mike’s eyes had caught Chester’s in the rearview mirror, his expression blank. He looked away, out the window, as the women chatted together, finishing a conversation they’d apparently started earlier, and he successfully avoided meeting Chester’s eyes the remainder of the ride. Farewells were made in the Bennington’s drive, promises to meet up for dinner in a few days, and then they were dropped off at the Shinoda residence, where the children were waiting to occupy the rest of his afternoon and evening.

At the first opportunity Mike had alone that night, he laid down in bed after a record fast shower, Anna taking his place in the bathroom. He needed to send a quick text to Chester, just to say goodnight. Glancing toward the bathroom, his thumb moved over the screen quickly.

10:32 PM _Nite, Chaz_

He’d barely pressed send when three little dots appeared in a gray bubble, and Mike smiled. It was like Chester had been waiting for him.

10:32 PM _Nite, Noda_

He closed his eyes, wishing he could text more, but unwilling to risk Talinda looking over his shoulder. He’d done enough crazy things for one day. When he opened his eyes, an ear to ear grin came over his face at the second text he’d received.

10:33 PM _Miss you_

10:33 PM _Miss you too_

He’d placed his phone on the nightstand before Anna came to bed, and thankfully she’d only wanted to cuddle close to him that night. Mike knew he was lucky that Anna understood the kind of long distance travel like they had done today usually wore him out, but he knew that tomorrow night he’d be expected to be rested and… ready. She had been asleep for awhile, her cheek on his chest and her arm around his waist, leaving him to lay staring at the ceiling, trying not to think about whether Chester was making love to his wife at that very moment. Chester wasn’t one to put off sex for sleep, and the thought of _his Chester_ in the throes of ecstasy with his wife made Mike’s stomach ache. 

_This is going to be so much harder than I thought it would be. I don’t know how I can make it two weeks without him. God, this blows._

A faint vibration reached Mike’s ears just then, and he turned his head to the right just in time to see the faint glow of his phone’s lock screen fade back to black. Without disrupting Anna, he slid his phone off the table and passed his thumb over the home button. The lock screen disappeared to show another text from Chester.

12:14 AM _Hey_

12:14 AM _Hey_

12:14 AM _I can’t sleep_

12:15 AM _I know. I never should have slept on the plane._

12:15 AM _I need to hear your voice_

Mike felt his heart start to race as he read those words in Chester’s silky, hushed voice. He wanted to hear Chester’s voice too. So badly. Twelve hours hadn’t passed yet and he missed the other man so much. Thinking quickly, he shifted Anna gently off of his chest and then carefully got out of bed, tucking the duvet in around her to keep her warm. Pulling on his robe, he texted,

12:17 AM _Can I call you? I’m going to my studio._

12:17 AM _Hang on_

Without turning on any lights, Mike made his way to the studio and quietly shut the door behind him, laying down on the gray couch with a small decorative pillow behind his head. The moonlight was coming in the curtains, bathing the room in silvery light and smoky shadows, and everything looked ethereal even though Mike knew it was just his same ordinary studio surroundings. When the text saying it was okay to call finally came though, Mike had the phone dialing immediately, holding it close to his ear, anxious to hear Chester’s voice on the other side.

“Mikey.” 

Chester’s voice was low, dripping with desire, and Mike felt arousal come on strong, lighting even his fingertips on fire instantly.

“Hey,” he breathed into the phone, eyes shut, picturing Chester’s face as though the vocalist were lying next to him.

“I can’t sleep, I miss you so much.”

Mike groaned softly into the phone. “I miss you too, Ches. How is it? Being home?” He hated himself for asking, and he really didn’t want to know the answer. It didn’t help that Chester paused before answering his question.

“It’s fine. But it’s not the same as being with you. You… you make me happy, Mike. Really, extra happy, without even trying. Everything feels so… different without you.” His voice was raspy, the way it sounded after a particularly hard night of singing. It made Mike’s heart ache.

He couldn’t stop himself from asking, “what about T?”

There was a longer pause, then apprehension in the voice he loved. “What _about_ T?”

Mike sighed. “She looked… happy to see you.” There. He’d said it. _I just want to know if you fucked your wife, Ches, but I can’t just straight up ask you, so answer my question without really answering my question, so I can get on with feeling like the pile of shit I am for even starting this with you. This is too hard. What were we thinking?_

The answer was barely a whisper. “Yeah… she was… happy... that I’m home.”

_Feel better, Shinoda? Fuck. You wanted to know. Now what?_

“I… Jesus, Mike…” he heard Chester’s breathing, light puffs into the phone, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you-”

“Stop, Ches, just stop. I don’t want to know,” Mike begged in a low voice, pressing his free hand to his chest like he was trying to hold his sinking heart into place. “I can’t think about you with her. Seeing you kissing, I just… I didn’t know how hard this was going to be.”

“It wasn’t any easier seeing you with Anna,” Chester responded, and so it was all out in the open, the words hanging in the miles between them, both men feeling the empty space beside them, wishing for the same impossible things.

“Where are you?” Mike whispered.

“In the guest room.” 

Behind Mike’s closed eyes he could visualize Chester in the bedroom he’d crashed in once when he’d had too many beers to drive home, laying across the deep purple comforter shirtless, one arm crossed behind his head. “I wish I was there.”

“Me too,” came the sigh from the other end of the phone. They were both silent for moments and Chester said, “come over.”

“Ches-”

“Pleeeease, Mikey?”

“Chester. Ches, I can’t leave the first night I’m back home,” Mike said, even as his mind was racing around for a plausible reason to leave the house after midnight. 

“Just for a few minutes. I’ll meet you outside. I just want a goodnight kiss.”

“Hah,” Mike laughed under his breath, “I know you, Ches, it won’t be just a kiss.” He heard Chester’s breathy giggle, and both men smiled, each able to clearly see the other’s smile in their mind. Taking a deep breath at the same time, they both exhaled slowly into the phone and Mike continued, “you know I can’t leave, Ches. I need to go back to bed before Anna wakes up and comes looking for me.”

“I know… I just needed to hear your voice. It’s so strange to be home all of a sudden, and you’re not close enough for me to just come slide into bed next to you. We were two months gone this time, you know? And just when it was getting… _interesting_... you’re so far away. I always want to be close to you, but now I feel like I’m standing on the opposite side of the Grand Canyon from you, or something. It sucks.” Chester’s voice reminded Mike of a petulant child, wanting something just out of reach.

“I hate it too. Just when I finally had what I’ve been wanting.” Another sigh, and Mike sat up, dangling his legs over the side of the couch. “I don’t know how I’m going to make it two weeks without you here with me, it feels like we’re home forever this break.”

“I remember when two weeks at home wasn’t long enough,” Chester mused quietly. “We used to complain that it wasn’t enough time to get everything done, to play with our kids… love on our wives… and now look at us both. Ready to give all of that away to be together.”

Mike’s heart seized in his chest as he considered Chester’s words. _So all I had to do was put a phone in your hand for you to start declaring our futures. Why does it feel like you’re right, Ches? This is not what we planned at all! Maybe we didn’t think this through enough. No, no, we’re going to work this out and keep everything the way it is right now. We’re not going to throw anything away._

“Mike?” Chester’s voice floated into his ear.

“I have to go, Chester. We’ll talk more tomorrow, yeah?” 

“Yeah… hey, Mike?”

“Yeah, Ches?”

“I love you, you know,” Chester breathed.

“I know. And I love you,” Mike whispered before he heard the disconnection. He sat for a moment, eyes closed, before he stood up and made his way back to the bedroom. Anna was facing away from him, on her side, when he slipped back into bed as quietly as possible, curling his body around his pillow the way he usually held Chester at night, smashing his face into the downy softness and squeezing his eyes shut. _I have to sleep, at least a little. I’ll sing to myself, that usually works._

It turned out that everything he sang to himself morphed into Chester’s voice, and he finally fell asleep with Chester singing _My December_ in his head.

**********

It was almost sunrise when Anna turned over and her hand hit Mike’s back, stirring her awake for a moment. She had grown unaccustomed to having him in the bed, but once her sleepy mind realized he was there, she slid closer, tucking up against his back and slipping her arm around her husband’s waist. Just as she was drifting off to sleep again, she heard Mike mumbling something.

“What’s that, sweetheart?” she asked sleepily, running her hand lazily across his stomach.

“Ches… like that… again…” Mike breathed out, his voice low and rough.

Anna’s hand froze on Mike’s skin as his hand covered hers. A moment passed and she realized he was asleep. She wasn’t entirely sure she’d heard Chester’s name on his lips, but she knew it wouldn’t have been the first time. Mike had started talking in his sleep on rare occasions years ago, mostly nonsense, or things that could be explained away by the stresses of the previous day. The only thing about his sleep talking that bothered her was that she’d never been able to shake the feeling that there was something other than stress on his mind when Chester’s name came out of his mouth. She waited, and when nothing else was said, she found herself falling back into an uneasy sleep, feeling suddenly more unsure about her relationship with her husband than she ever had before.


	13. Sunlight

The warmth from the sunlight falling on his face brought Mike out of his disconnected dream before it was over. As he pointed his toes toward the foot of the bed, stretching, he felt Anna shift behind him, their hands together on Mike’s stomach, and place a gentle kiss to the back of his neck.

_No, not right now,_ was Mike’s first thought on his first morning home. It was apparent that Anna had other ideas in mind, though, the way she disentangled her hand from Mike’s and slipped her fingers under the waistband of his boxers, kissing his shoulder as she stroked the sensitive skin lightly.

“I missed you, Mike,” she said, “I’m so glad you’re home.”

He knew what all of the appropriate responses would be, and he knew he should make them sound as heartfelt as possible. He wasn’t an asshole, and Mike knew that his wife certainly deserved better than a husband who was screwing his best friend. The guilt was consuming, and the worst part of it was that he felt like he was betraying _Chester_ when he sleepily replied, “honey, I missed you too.” _There, that wasn’t so bad. I didn’t lie and say I was glad to be home._

The light kisses continued on his shoulder and neck and Mike opened his eyes, looking at the warm spot the beam of sun was creating on the bed, the empty place in front of him where Chester had been the previous morning, breathing on his face. A pang of longing hit his gut as he thought about the way his legs had tangled under the sheets with Chester’s, the good morning kisses he’d trailed down Chester’s neck and chest, the way he’d pressed Chester against the wall after breakfast, and he grew hard while he was lost in the memories.

Lazy morning sex had always been Mike’s favorite, and he knew there was really no way around it this morning, after being gone for two months, and with his wife both willing and initiating things. He pressed his lips together in a thin line to prevent the sigh he felt from escaping, and tried, really, _really_ tried, to get Chester out of his head.

_“I couldn’t stop thinking about you.”_

Mike wanted to shake his head, shake away Chester’s voice on the phone last night, admitting he’d done exactly what Mike was about to do-- make love to his wife, while thinking about his lover. _This is fucked up,_ Mike thought desperately. _Get out of my head, Chester, I can’t do this with you there._

He imagined Chester’s response as clear as if he were there, whispering it into Mike’s ear-- _“wrong. The only way you can do this is with me here.”_

Anna’s hand had slipped inside his boxers with the confidence fourteen years of marriage had brought her, and Mike felt her smile against his shoulder when she found him already aroused, his erection firm under her slender hand without her having to do any work at all. “You really _did_ miss me,” she giggled quietly, closing her hand around him and lightly stroking down his length.

Even though Anna was the only person who had touched him this way for well over a decade, almost two, and even though it had always been enough for him, Mike suddenly felt disconnected from the action, longing for Chester’s hand and the firm grip he was unafraid of using. Until the past few days, he had never given any thought to how differently Anna touched him than what he actually craved, how gentle she was compared to how he touched himself when he was alone on tour. She was tender, careful, and on the rare occasion she felt daring enough to give him a blow job, that alone was never enough to bring him off. He was just now realizing that wasn’t because he didn’t like coming in her mouth, but because, although it felt nice, it simply wasn’t intense enough. Everything between them was comfortable, they knew what worked for them and what didn’t, and they saw each other just infrequently enough to keep the flame of interest there after all these years.

He felt Anna nudge a leg over his hip, wordlessly encouraging him onto his back so she could move on top of him, and then her hand was gone and she was sitting right on his dick and he could feel her heat through the tiny panties she had on. Lazy morning sex was something she had perfected over the years, and something she’d been thinking about more than usual the past several days, anxious for Mike to return home so she could feel that beautiful connection with him again. Hair falling into her face, she leaned over and kissed him, slowly pressing herself down on his hardness, and Mike shifted his hips upward, seeking relief. Everything felt soft against him and it was all he could do to not frown into the kiss, dissatisfaction blooming under his skin, everything in him crying out for Chester, and then everything yelling back to pay attention to his wife. He reached for her hips, pulling her down into him, and the intensity of the kiss leveled up a notch as he tried to push thoughts of Chester out of his mind. 

It wasn’t working. When he lifted a hand to the back of her head and met a handful of silky shoulder length strands instead of velvety shaved smoothness, what flashed in his memory was the feeling of touching Chester’s head as he swallowed him down two nights ago. When Anna’s tongue slipped between his lips and Mike felt the smoothness of her face next to his, all he thought about was Chester’s stubble grazing his chin. _I can’t make you go away, Ches, please just go away long enough for me to do this right, she’s my wife!_ Stubbornly he held Anna’s face in one hand, trying to kiss away the image of Chester’s face as he slipped his thumb inside her underwear, and finding her hot and wet and ready for him, he decided that lazy morning sex was not what he was in the mood for right now.

Grabbing her by the hips, he lifted her up, sliding her over and turning her onto her stomach before she could react, pulling the thin wisp of cotton off her legs, and nudging his knees between her thighs. He heard his name escaping her lips in a low, breathy moan as he ran a finger down her cleft and dipped inside her, impatiently finding that rough spot inside that made her squirm under his touch, manipulating her skillfully as he had hundreds of times before. It wasn’t long until she was pushing back into his hand and Mike knew she was ready, and he chanted to himself as he pushed inside her, _Anna, Anna, Anna… Anna._

It was familiar but so different, warm and wet but not nearly the same tightness that he was craving, Mike’s fingers gripping Anna’s hips hard, pulling her into him with each thrust, urgently seeking her release as well as his own, desperately trying to push away thoughts of Chester, the little sounds he made as Mike fucked him yesterday morning, the way Chester’s legs felt around his waist, the smell of his skin after the show, the taste of his cum on his lips.

_Stop it, Mike, you’re fucking messed up,_ he berated himself, hating everything he was doing and had done, feeling like the worst person in the world, cheating on both of the people who loved him more than anything. _You. Are. Fucked. Up._

He reached around and found the spot he knew would make Anna climax quickly if he just flicked his fingers against her a few times, thrusting deeper, hating himself with every push, driving them both forward to release. _Finally,_ he thought as he felt his wife tremble and squeeze around him, and he came quickly after, biting his lip and cursing himself silently. 

Feeling sick, he pulled away from his wife, dropping heavily on their bed next to her as she rolled on her side to face him, her t-shirt twisted up over her waist, face pink and satisfied. Smiling, she brushed a hand over his forehead, and Mike’s eyes closed, thinking of Chester’s hand following the same path two nights ago in the van, when he’d reached out to make sure Mike was okay. _I am a horrible person._

He opened his eyes to his wife’s loving gaze as she said breathlessly, “wow, Mike. That’s… different.” His expression must have looked panicked, because Anna continued quickly, “not in a bad way! I’m just not used to you being so… awake… in the morning.”

He nodded, hoping he didn’t look as miserable as he felt, trying to smile, not trusting his voice to sound normal. Anna reached over to kiss him, softly, and Mike felt his heart shatter into a million pieces. He didn’t know what he’d been thinking when he suggested sneaking and secrets with Chester. Deception wasn’t in him at all. He’d never been good at lying and he had always considered himself on the straight and narrow, a good man, a loving husband and father, as normal as he could be considering the band’s international fame, and cheating on his wife had never been part of his carefully constructed life plan and persona. _Am I having a mid-life crisis? Is that what this is? If she knew… if she knew about Chester it would kill her. I am the worst kind of horrible person._ He kissed her back, gently, apologetically, trying to make up for his hidden infidelity, feeling lower than he’d felt in a long time. Turning down Anna’s suggestion of a quick shower together, he waited until he heard the shower door close behind her before reaching for his phone.

The message was waiting. 

7:15 AM _Morning. ;) I was thinking we could meet up this afternoon at the studio. I told T I wanted to rework a song for the next leg of the tour. Let me know if you’re free. 1:00?_

Mike felt the anticipation of seeing Chester crawl over his body, butterflies settling in his stomach, lifting his mood from the self-hatred he’d just been wallowing in, but he knew better than to leave to hang with Chester today. He couldn’t do it.

8:43 AM _Can’t today. Anna’s got plans. Tomorrow?_

He closed his eyes and sank back into the pillow, wishing he could just disappear. He wanted to go to Chester, but it was only the first day back. Anna would question him, and with the mental state he was in, he might just blurt everything out to ease his guilt, and he knew that wouldn’t be good for anyone involved. Waiting for Chester’s response to his suggested postponement was torturous. _He’s mad. Ugh. I should have said yes._ He bit his lip as he watched the little gray dots appear, waiting...

8:46 AM _K. Tomorrow then._

8:47 AM _Miss you_ Mike pressed send before he could reconsider.

8:47 AM _LY_

Relief washed over him as his eyes skimmed the last text. It would be okay, Chester wasn’t mad.

8:47 AM _LY2_

He was scrolling through his Instagram mentions, hundreds of pictures from the Birmingham show, when Anna came out of the bathroom with a towel wrapped around her, running fingers through her hair. When he looked up he caught her troubled eyes, and his stomach turned with anxiety again. He hadn’t even been awake two hours and already had been up and down the spectrum of emotions, feeling nauseated from the rapid shifts in his emotional state. As she sat down on the bed next to him, he set the phone on the table next to the bed and gave her his full attention, trying to smile at her, noticing she was no longer glowing from their morning liaison. _I know that look. She’s got something on her mind and she doesn’t know how to bring it up._

“Mike…” Anna stopped and looked at him, and he knew she was considering whether or not to continue.

“What’s up, hon?”

She sighed, tucking a strand of hair behind her ear, then moved her eyes and hand down to pick at non-existent lint on the towel covering her body. “I was thinking, in the shower… I… this morning…” she struggled to form her thoughts into words that didn’t sounds like accusations. Mike waited patiently, his mind searching for excuses as to why he’d been keen to flip her over instead of relishing the closeness of face to face contact, and really not coming up with any excuses, but she continued, “you were talking in your sleep this morning.”

The air in the room seemed to evaporate and Mike struggled to inhale normally, trying to sound unaffected when he responded, “I did? I must have been really out of it! Yesterday was such a long day.”

Anna nodded, thinking, then asked, “maybe you were you dreaming or something? Do you remember having any dreams last night?”

The memory of his unconscious thoughts wrapped up in all things Chester flooded his mind instantly, a flash of the dream he’d had of Chester on his knees, looking up at him with those expressive eyes as his mouth teased him, caused a deep blush to creep up Mike’s chest and neck, settling in his face as Anna watched him carefully. _Lie, for God’s sake, Mike, say something fast! I can’t believe I talked in my sleep, I’m going to out myself without even knowing it!_

“Maybe something about Chester?” she pressed on, determined to get an answer, “you… you were telling him to do something the same way again?” Her eyes were dark, waiting, gauging his reaction to her words, noting how artificial his smile seemed. 

“Oh, yeah,” he said with what he hoped was a lighthearted laugh, “I was dreaming about tracking vocals. In fact, Chester and I had been talking yesterday about meeting up sometime this week to rework the bridge we’re using for two of the songs on the next part of the tour.” Mike’s mind was working the lies quickly for once, and he was thankful. 

Anna looked as though she wanted to believe him, but just couldn’t quite make the leap. Mike held his breath as he watched the emotions flit over her face, and he reached out for her hand, taking it gently. “Anna, I swear, it was just work. I promise.” His tongue felt thick as he looked right at her and denied her unspoken question of whether there was anything untoward between him and Chester.

Their eyes held for a moment, and he willed her to just believe him, to say okay and let it go. After what felt like an eternity, she sighed and looked away, out the window, pulling her hand away and standing up. All he heard as she walked away was “okay, Mike,” sounding resigned, as though she knew he had lied, as though she felt she was losing him. 

He watched as she dropped the towel in the hamper, her soft white naked backside beautiful in the sunlight, and he hated himself all over again for lying. In the very next second, though, his mind was counting the hours until he could see Chester again.


	14. Normal

As it turned out, Mike didn’t see Chester the next day, or even the next. It was almost a full week of postponements on both sides before they both managed to get away one afternoon. The week had simultaneously moved fast and slow for Mike, the time he spent with his kids moving double time, the moments alone with Anna dragging and feeling slightly strained. 

It was with a mixture of relief and excited anticipation that he got in the car to go to the studio Thursday afternoon under Anna’s neutral gaze, the same expression on her face she’d been watching him with since that first morning home. The gates closed behind his car and he felt a rush of exhilaration, of freedom, as his car put distance between him and his wife, bringing him closer to his lover, his Chester. Six days apart was seven days too many in his book. His head was full of thoughts he needed to share, and only one person would understand, could ever understand. He couldn’t wait to be with Chester again, to relieve the anxious jittery feeling he’d had since last they’d been together. 

He flashed what felt like the first real smile of the week at the security guard as he scanned his ID, then tossed the receptionist an equally cheerful greeting, feeling almost giddy as he flipped the light switch in their new studio. Well, it still seemed new, after just a year in the place, and Mike walked around, trying to remember where all the outlets were as he plugged in strands of lights, waiting, his heart racing. 

His back was to the door when he heard it open, then the sound of the lock being engaged, and he turned just as he felt Chester behind him. Chester always had a way of being right next to Mike before he heard him, and he felt the tingle of electricity down his back at the vocalist’s sudden proximity.

“Hey,” Chester purred into Mike’s ear, slipping a cup of coffee into his hand, kissing his cheek before sprawling on the sofa, grinning. 

Taking a quick sip, Mike smiled back, “hey, Ches.” He held the cup in the air, nodding toward it with thanks. The atmosphere of the room was thick with restraint as they both sipped their coffee, slowly taking in the sight of each other as though it had been years since they’d been together. Mike could feel the energy radiating off Chester’s body, casually lounging on the sofa, every item of clothing clinging in all the right places, and Mike felt the bold and unashamed desire he felt toward the other man rising in his body.

Still smiling, Chester asked, “how’s your week been, ‘Noda?”

Mike felt the scowl before he realized it was happening. “Seriously, Ches? You know how the week has been.” If his hair hadn’t been immaculately styled he’d have run his hand through it in irritation. As it was, he stopped and just tugged on his ear, eyebrows knitted together in a frown. _My week has been hell, I’ve missed you so much, and here you are, and you don’t look like you’ve missed me at all!_ The innocuous question had dampened Mike’s mood considerably. 

Chester smiled before he really took a look at Mike’s expression, and everything in the room shifted as Chester set his coffee cup down and rose to meet Mike, who looked as if he were about to cry. “Mike,” he said gently, lifting the coffee cup he’d just placed in Mike’s hand and placing it on the table next to his, opening his arms as Mike stumbled into them, “Mikey, what’s wrong?”

Just the feeling of Chester’s arms closing around him, holding him together, caused all the words in Mike’s head to come tumbling out in a rush. “God, Ches, everything is wrong. This week has been so much harder than I thought it would be. I couldn’t get you out of my head, and I tried… I feel like shit when I’m around Anna, and then I feel worse because I feel like I’m not being loyal to you when I’m with her, and then I feel even worse because she’s my _wife_ and I just get stuck in this cycle of negative thinking and missing you and-”

His rambling was interrupted with Chester’s lips brushing over his, and Mike’s eyes fluttered closed as Chester ran his nose along his cheek and feathered sweet kisses along his jaw. “Shhhh, Mikey, it’s okay… it’s okay… we knew this was going to be hard.”

Eyes closed, Mike nodded, agreeing. “Chester, I just don’t know what my life is without you anymore. Do you ever think about that? About the amount of time we spend together? All I can think when you’re away is when can I be with you again. Normal people would be sick of each other by now. Almost twenty years, Ches. All the shows, the buses, the hotels, interviews, lyric writing, tracking, it just goes on and on… we spend more time together than we do with our families, and yet we’re stuck in everyone’s expectations of how we should be, how we’ve defined ourselves.” He leaned his head back away from Chester’s so he could look him in the eyes. “Being away from you this week has made me feel crazy, I don’t know… I just want to _be_ with you and not give a fuck what anyone has to say about it, not the band, not the fans, not our families, I just want to disappear and be someone new.” Mike was breathless as he finished his rant, Chester moving his arms down to close his hands around Mike’s, and they stood, fingers linked, Mike staring at Chester and Chester looking back at Mike, distressed.

“We can’t… we can’t just… _leave,_ ” Chester finally stuttered out, his face crinkled with confusion, trying to figure out if that was really what Mike wanted.

Mike sighed, closed his eyes, and leaned his forehead against Chester’s. “I know. I know that. I’m not saying we should. I’m just saying… I wish it was different. I wish _we_ were different.”

Chester considered this for a moment, but then spoke his opinion with conviction. “I don’t want to be different. I want to be Chester and I want you to be Mike and I want everything we have, Mike, we have an amazing life! And one more week and things will be back to normal.”

Under closed eyelids, Mike rolled his eyes. “That’s just it, Ches, isn’t it weird that ‘normal’ is being away from what everyone would consider our normal lives? And the guys… I don’t know how much longer we can keep this from them, they were asking so many questions, and I’m such a terrible liar. And this next cycle is only five weeks… I don’t want to feel like I’m only alive when we’re away, Ches, sneaking around behind the guys backs.”

Chester sat down on the couch, looking up with concern as Mike opened wide eyes, starting to pace with agitation in his steps. With an edge in his voice, he said, “you’re not suggesting telling them are you? Because that’s not what I agreed to when we started this. _You_ were the one pushing for us to make this choice, now you’re saying you don’t want it this way. You’re making this hard, Mike, why are you doing this?”

The pacing halted abruptly, Mike stopping in front of the sofa, his features crumbling as he looked at Chester. “I’m… I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a mess. I’m just not made for this, Chester, the lying… _being_ with both you and Anna,” his eyes skipped away, the blush coloring his cheeks, and he continued softly, “I can’t keep pretending to be in love with her, Ches. I love her, but I’m not in love anymore. My heart is yours. It has been for longer than I’ve been able to admit it. I guess on some level I’ve known for a while… and I guess you’ve known longer, with all my damn sleep talking.”

He sat down next to Chester, placing both palms on the other man’s thighs, his face pleading for understanding, and he watched the concern on Chester’s face dissolve at his last words, softness around his eyes as he responded, “we’ve always had each other’s hearts, Mikey. Anyone would have to be blind not to see that. You’ll see, this week will pass quickly, we’ll be back on the road, and everything will be fine. It has to be. You were right in Birmingham, nobody has to know, not for certain anyway. We can do this. You have to remember, it will only hurt everyone around us, you have to think bigger than yourself, bigger than me.”

“I know you’re right, I just… I feel like I don’t know who I am right now, Chester. One minute I love our secret and the next I just feel like screaming out to everyone that I love you, that I’m in love with you-”

“That’s just what being in love feels like, Mike. It’s all out of control and crazy and wonderful and scary and beautiful.”

Mike’s eyes met Chester’s and held as he whispered, “I’ve never felt anything like this before.” 

Silent moments passed, then Chester moved from under Mike’s hands and threw a leg over him, straddling his lap, pressing their bodies together as he attacked Mike’s neck with light nips of the teeth and kisses. “Careful,” Mike breathed, fearful of marks being left, and Chester immediately pressed his lips firmly under his ear, no teeth this time, breath hot against Mike’s skin. 

“I’ll be careful,” Chester mumbled as he continued to explore every texture of Mike’s face and neck, the surprising softness of his beard, the smooth, hairless places, the tiny crinkles in the corners of his eyes. One of Mike’s hands was on Chester’s hip, the other under his clothes, teasing around his backside, skimming across his warm skin, brushing against hidden sensitive places then away, bringing low moans to Chester’s throat. They were lost in the building sensations, taking their time, touching, feeling, tasting as they ground their hips into each other, the whole afternoon stretching out in front of them for their exploration and enjoyment. The friction was delicious, and Mike was leaning heavily against the sofa back, eyes closed as Chester kissed along his collarbone, when he heard a key in the lock.

“Fuck, Chester! Stop!” he hissed, pushing against Chester’s shoulders, eyes wide with disbelief. _Who in the fuck is coming in here? We’re not working today! I swear if it’s Brad I’m going to kill him._ Chester scooted off Mike, legs still over his lap, and grabbed his abandoned coffee cup just as the door swung open.

It was Rob.

He strolled in as though he’d been invited, tossing keys onto the table in front of Chester and Mike as he greeted them. Chester pulled his knees in closer to his body as Mike tried to cross his ankle over one knee casually and dropped his hands into his lap, attempting to cover the obvious bulge in his jeans. 

“I came by your house to drop off the drive we’ve been passing around and Anna said you guys had come up here for the afternoon,” Rob said as he dug in his pocket. He handed Mike a USB drive before he moved toward the orange chair diagonal from the sofa. 

_Of course she did. Fuck._

Before either Mike or Chester could remember the excuse they’d given their wives for coming into the studio today, Rob’s head tilted to the side and he gestured toward the Chester.

“Are you drinking Mike’s latte?” Rob was looking at the cup in Chester’s hands, confused.

_Good God, Ches, you didn’t even pick up the right cup_ , Mike thought as he glanced over at the side of the coffee Chester was holding. There it was, emblazoned on the side in capital letters, “MIKE.” Chester laughed as Mike shook his head, saying, “you know everything belongs to Chester, no matter who actually owns it.”

“I bought this coffee, Shinoda, I’ll drink it if I damn well please.” 

Rob smiled, sitting down opposite Mike and Chester, “so what are we working on?”

**********

It was almost four hours later when Rob stood up, stretched out his long limbs, and called it a day for himself. “You guys on your way out soon?” he asked, gathering his keys and cell phone, pocketing both before he looked at Mike, sitting in his chair behind all the production equipment he and Brad used.

He saw that Mike didn’t look at him, but his eyes slid toward Chester before he answered, “I think we’re going to finish up these last vocals on this new track before we go. Ches is in the zone right now.” Chester nodded with a smile from inside the vocal booth and Mike’s whole face lit up in a bright grin.

Rob shook his head at the pair. “You two are workaholics. We’re not even halfway done with the tour for the current album and you’re already working on new material.”

“It’s Mike’s best creative time,” Chester called from the booth, his eyes gazing at Mike fondly, appreciating Mike’s unique combination of ambition and creativity. The huge smile on Mike’s face lingered under Chester’s words, and Rob just shook his head again, turning to the door.

“You guys sure? I’m going to go for sushi, if you’re interested.”

“Maybe next time, man. We’re going to finish up and be out soon,” Mike said, trying to keep his voice level and calm, watching Rob nod and then disappear, turning the key outside and locking them inside. Before he could stand up, Chester was out of the vocal booth and next to him again.

“Ahhhh, I thought he was never going to leave!” Chester exclaimed, grabbing Mike by the belt loops and pulling him up for a voracious kiss. They stumbled into each other, giggling at first, as hands reached out, seeking balance, both men meeting the kiss with the hunger born from hours of denial. Lips joined, Mike pushed Chester forward toward the mixing console, knocking over a lamp in the process, until Chester’s backside hit the edge of the table. “I’m supposed to be home for dinner, I promised Tyler I’d be back for dinner,” Chester gasped as Mike slipped warm hands under the back of his shirt, pulling him closer.

“You can eat after I’m done with you,” Mike murmured in his ear, pushing against Chester as he pulled him in, breathing in the other man’s scent, “We’ve been apart for a week and I’ve been waiting all afternoon now. No way you’re going home.”

It was all heat between them then; the anxious pulling of clothing, hands all over; gasps and pants as MIke pulled them down to the floor- “ _not on the equipment, too expensive_ -” he’d uttered in a moment of clarity; Chester sucking Mike’s bottom lip while Mike moaned into the kiss; Mike once again feeling out of control as Chester sat naked on his lap, moving his own fingers in and out of Mike’s mouth, watching the desire spread over Mike’s face when he moved to finger himself before flipping their roles and taking control, sinking down over Mike’s erection and fucking him right there on the studio floor. It was urgent and flavored with Mike’s insecurities about his intimate relationships, allowing room for Chester to maneuver the encounter into something that didn’t lack passion but wasn’t as sentimental as the first time they’d made love a week ago, and also wasn’t the heated, angry sex they’d had after the tense breakfast with the guys. 

It was just about them, the release of more than a decade of wanting each other, Chester feeling as though he had to prove that they were okay, that everything was okay, that the love and the feelings could be there underneath the raw urge to fuck each other senseless, and that they could keep this life together, this amazing, blessed, fortunate life they had made with each other. Chester couldn’t keep his eyes off Mike’s face, screwed up in ecstasy before he came up into his body, fingers gripping Chester’s hips hard and pulling him down to meet each frantic thrust. Feeling Mike’s orgasm rip through his body brought Chester’s hand to his own dick, jerking himself off and sending streams of cum onto Mike’s chest as he lay, breathless, watching Chester’s beautiful face as he called Mike’s name, over and over again. 

It was Chester collapsing on Mike, warm stickiness spread between them, kissing him as though his lips held the secrets to the universe, and maybe they did. And then it was Mike’s hands resting on Chester’s back, it was Mike who said ‘I love you’ first, it was Mike who tenderly kissed Chester’s brow and cheek and neck and whispered, “I’ll be ok, we’ll be ok,” and Chester knew he’d gotten through to him, somehow.

Neither of them could know that before he’d even left the studio parking lot, Rob had called Anna, placating her with the details of working in the studio with Mike and Chester all afternoon. Neither of them could know that after he’d talked to Anna, Rob sat with his head in his hands, his mind whirling, wondering how he’d missed the signs for so long. Anna was right. Something was up with Chester and Mike, and even though he had a sinking feeling it was far bigger than he thought it could be, Rob felt obligated to help them keep whatever it was from spinning out of control.


	15. Revelations

Dave opened the door, two My Little Ponies in his hand, and looked at Rob with a sheepish smile as he moved aside, inviting Rob inside wordlessly. When he didn’t even get a greeting, he asked, “what’s up, Bourdie?”

“Sorry to interrupt,” Rob said, gesturing to the toys, stepping into the foyer of the bassist’s home and glancing around at the mounds of girly shoes scattered about. Dave shook his head at the mess and walked back toward the family room, where his girls were still engaged in an intense drama regarding an evil prince pony and a princess pony who was requiring rescue from a peasant pony and his friend, both of whom Dave was holding. 

Setting the ponies down on the coffee table, Dave told the girls he’d be back in a minute and he and Rob made their way to the back patio, where they both settled into cushioned seats by the pool. Rob’s expression was exactly the same as Dave had seen it for the past twenty years-- carefully blank, giving away nothing. “So, what’s up, man?” he tried again.

Rob glanced down at his hands and started pushing the cuticles on the fingernails of his left hand back with the thumb of his right hand. Dave watched him as he addressed each finger, then switched to the right hand, practically listening to the seconds tick by until Rob finally looked up, peered thoughtfully out at the pool, and said, “I think Mike and Chester are _together._ ”

Silence stretched between the two men as Rob’s implications wedged their way into a corner of Dave’s mind. He sighed, and reached to scratch his goatee. “We’ve already talked about this, Rob. You were the one who said to let it go and trust them.”

Nodding, Rob kept his eyes out on the pool, the still blue water reflecting in his glasses. “Yeah,” he offered quietly, his voice drifting off, and he was silent again. Dave waited, knowing that there was more, but he was accustomed to waiting for Rob to decide exactly how he wanted to phrase what he was going to say, valuing words and their power more than anyone he’d ever met. It was a good thing Rob didn’t write lyrics, Dave mused, or the first record would still be unfinished. “I think you’re right, though. I think there’s more going on than they’re telling us. I don’t just mean about what happened in Birmingham. I think it’s much greater than… _emotional_ attachment… they’ve always been close, but I think they’ve… crossed the line.”

“Damn, Bourdie, what brought all this on? We left London and you were all about their story and their privacy, now you’re sitting on my patio telling me you think that they’re _together._ I guess you’re trying to say you think they’re having an affair? How did you end up at that conclusion?”

“Anna.”

The surprise was evident in Dave’s face when the name of Mike’s wife rolled off Rob’s tongue. 

“I called ‘round a few days ago to return the drive to Mike and Anna mentioned that he and Chester had gone to the studio for the afternoon.” Dave raised both eyebrows, looking at Rob with interest. “Exactly my reaction,” Rob said, a hand pointed at Dave’s face. “I didn’t tell her that we didn’t have any plans to work the next two weeks. There’s nothing to work on, just little seeds, and she didn’t know that, but when I said I’d just meet up with him later, she suggested I go up to the studio. Before I could say anything else, she started to cry, and I… well, I didn’t really know what to say.” 

Even though he wasn’t sure he wanted to know, Dave asked anyway, “what did _Anna_ have to say?”

Rob exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair. “It was awkward… she was just standing there, looking at me when I asked if everything was okay… and she just straight out asked me if Mike had been acting strange on tour. Of course I said no,” he continued hastily at the concerned look on Dave’s face, “but she said Mike seemed off, bothered, and distant since we got home. I didn’t know what to say, Dave, I hated making excuses for him, but she was starting to get hysterical. You know I can’t deal with that.”

Emotional women were not something Rob Bourdon felt like dealing with, his bandmate’s emotional wife even less so, and Dave knew the entire encounter had been uncomfortable for him. “What did you say? I mean, she didn’t flat out ask about Chester, did she?”

Rob shook his head no. “I made the standard excuse. Worried about the upcoming tour, anxious about going back on the road, how it’s hard to come back to our normal lives… she just kept looking at me, so I told her I’d go down to the studio and check on Mike. And that I’d call her later, just to let her know he was okay.”

Now Dave looked out toward the pool, away from Rob, a crease of concern between his eyes. “Well? That doesn’t sound like _that_ big of a deal, Bourdie. What else happened?”

More silence. The waiting was starting to make Dave edgy. 

“Rob?”

Another stroke of his hand through his hair, and Rob finally turned his head and looked at Dave. “I don’t know if I’m right but my gut tells me I’m right. Just like you were feeling something amiss... now that makes two of us. I don’t know anything for certain, but when I got down to the studio, it was obvious to me they’d been messing around. Like teenagers caught making out, or something. Mike was trying his best to cover what I can only assume was a hard on, and Chester… he had Mike’s coffee cup in his hands, drinking it maybe? Who knows. Chester hates milk in his coffee, so I have no idea why he’d be drinking Mike’s latte. The whole thing was weird. So I asked them what we were working on, just to see what they would say, and I swear Chester was just making up lyrics off the cuff. They were terrible.”

Laughter escaped from both men as Dave considered a scenario where Chester actually spewed out bad lyrics. “Was it, like, _No Laundry_ bad?”

Still smiling, Rob replied, “worse! At least that one’s funny. Everyone hates laundry.”

Once the laughter subsided, Dave looked seriously at Rob. “We can’t tell Brad, not yet. He’s not going to take it well. You saw him at breakfast the other week. I thought he was going to hit Mike, or Chester, or both.” 

Rob nodded. “I really thought we’d get the truth out of them before we went back out on the road. Mike is terrible at lying, always has been, and it was obvious they were hiding something at breakfast the other morning. It all seems obvious now, the way they have been with each other for years… I still can’t believe they’ve been sharing a bed all this time… and I don’t believe that all they’ve done is… kiss.” Rob looked away, a little embarrassed to be voicing his suspicions aloud. “I’m with you, we have to make sure this doesn’t come out. It will ruin the band, ruin their families, ruin us.” He sighed, looking down at his hands again. “This band, you guys, it’s my whole life. I mean, at the end of the day, Linkin Park is the only thing that’s been the same the past twenty years. I can’t give that up yet, I’m not ready to stop making music with you guys and performing. Do you understand what I’m saying? This could be the very worst thing to ever happen to us.”

“But,” Dave said softly, “it could be the very best thing that’s ever happened to Mike and Chester.” 

Rob closed his eyes for a moment, then nodded. It was all spectacularly fucked up.

****************

“Mike, Brad’s here!”

Anna yelled up the stairs to her husband, who was busy packing his suitcases to leave on the next tour that started tomorrow. Mike froze, wondering what Brad wanted- they hadn’t spoken since they deplaned almost two weeks ago. He kept meaning to call, to go over and talk to Brad about his reaction to seeing him kiss Chester, his reaction to their hand holding on the plane, but he hadn’t trusted himself enough to have a calm conversation with his childhood friend and not give away his and Chester’s secret. Brad had been his best friend since middle school, and Mike felt pretty certain that Brad’s problem was all jealousy, same as it had been when Chester first joined the band. But he’d been too chicken shit to find out, and now he was trapped in his own home, unprepared for the conversation that was coming.

“Coming,” he yelled down the stairs, tossing some socks into the open suitcase and pocketing his phone on the way out the door. He felt nauseated. _I don’t know what I want to say, he was so angry on the plane. This is the longest we’ve gone without talking since high school. I know he’s still mad._

Taking a deep breath, he heard Brad and Anna’s voices in the kitchen as he crossed through the foyer. When he entered the kitchen, Brad was leaning against the bar with a glass of water in his hand, and Anna was wiping crumbs from the breakfast table. His eyes met Brad’s and when Brad didn’t smile, Mike’s stomach lurched. _He’s still mad._

The confrontation at breakfast two weeks ago had been one thing, but Mike didn’t think he could lie to Brad’s face when he had no one else to look at, when it was just the two of them. The tension was palpable, and Mike was grateful when Anna excused herself to check on the progress being made upstairs by their kids getting ready for school. 

Mike’s eyes followed her out of the kitchen, and as his gaze cut back to Brad, the guitarist set his glass on the bar and opened the conversation with “I’m sorry, Mike.”

Mike exhaled a breath he wasn’t aware he was holding. “Me too. I wanted to come by but I knew we weren’t going to be home long, I didn’t want to take time away from your family.” He glanced down at the bar, running his fingertip along the squeaky clean quartz surface. Anna had definitely been on a cleaning binge. “How’s Elisa?”

With a dismissive hand, Brad answered, “fine… but I’m not here for that, Mike. I want to talk about you and Chester before we leave tomorrow.”

Mike glanced at the kitchen doorway, wishing Brad would keep his voice down but unable to protest without drawing suspicion. “What about us?”

Brad narrowed his eyes. “I want you to end it, Mike.”

Mike felt his insides grow cold. Brad was looking at him, daring him to challenge the directive. Playing innocent, Mike asked, “end what?” _He had to be talking about us sharing a room, he doesn’t know about the sex, don’t react, calm down, Mike. Breathe._

Without blinking, Brad calmly repeated, “end it.”

The panic was starting to bubble up inside Mike’s stomach, the nausea returning full force. _He’s not here to apologize. Not really. I should have known._ Still playing innocent, Mike cocked his head to the side and replied, “what are you talking about, Brad?”

Brad’s eyes shifted toward the kitchen door just as Mike’s had a few moments ago. He lowered his voice before he said, “sharing rooms. You know what I’m talking about.” When Mike stood, dumbfounded, unable to think of a response, Brad continued, “you know you can’t keep that up. Lines are going to get blurred- if they haven’t already- and someone is going to get hurt. I made peace with how you two are around each other a long time ago but I’m not going to stand around and watch the two of you screw up everything we have just because you want to fuck each other!” 

And with those words, Mike knew that Brad knew about him and Chester. He wasn’t flat out saying it, but Mike could tell from the glare in Brad’s eyes that he believed his suspicions, even if he wouldn’t voice it right now. _Don’t give in, Mike! You have to fight him!_

“Everything _we_ have? Don’t act like you’re just trying to look out for the band! You’ve _always_ been jealous of my relationship with Chester!” Mike hissed through his teeth, struggling to keep his voice down. “You wanted him out when he went to rehab, went through the divorce, because you didn’t want the baggage and the bad publicity. I think all it really boiled down to was that I was spending more time with Chester than with you! There is no Linkin Park without Chester, Brad, I thought you finally realized that. I thought we were in a good place, especially with this last album, you and I spent so much time on that together!” 

Suddenly, the fire went out of Mike’s voice, and his tone turned pleading without him realizing it had happened. “Brad… Brad, we’ve known each other for almost thirty years. You have to believe me when I say, there’s nothing between me and Chester.”

The change in Mike’s tone caused Brad’s expression to soften slightly. “That’s just it, Mike… I don’t believe you. For the first time ever, I feel like you’re lying to me. And I’m telling you, you have to end it with him. Whatever it is, whatever it’s become, you need to end it. Look around you, Mike,” he gestured with his hand at the house, “you’ll lose it all, if you two cross that line. Everything you’ve worked your whole life for… and then what? Who will you be then? What will be left after the truth comes out?” He held up his hand to silence Mike when he started to interrupt. “Maybe I’m wrong, and maybe you’re telling me the truth. Maybe all you’re doing is cuddling up at night, maybe that kiss we saw was the only one. If that’s _true_ Mike, stop this before it gets out of your control. You can’t stay on this path.”

Afraid to look away, Mike held Brad’s gaze but knew his resolve was faltering. He had already been feeling the stress at home, already wondering how he could keep up the deceptions, and Brad’s words were fanning the little flames of insecurity that just wouldn’t be buried. Finally he hung his head, and said softly, “okay. Okay, Brad, I’ll talk to Chester.”

He looked up as Brad moved to take another sip of water, then walked his glass to the sink. He stopped next to Mike, placing a hand on his shoulder and squeezing him lightly. “It’s the best thing, Mike… you know I’m right.” His eyes sparkled with the knowledge that he was, in fact, usually correct.

_Smug bastard,_ thought Mike. 

“Take care of it before tomorrow, Mike.” Brad glanced at Mike’s distraught face, and went on, in a kinder tone, “it will be okay. I’m just trying to help. Stop it before it starts, you know? I love you, Mike.”

“Love you, too, Brad. I’ll see you tomorrow,” he replied as Brad made a move toward the front door to leave.

Mike had just sunk into a barstool, dropping his forehead into his hands, when Brad made a startled gasp, causing Mike’s head to snap up. Brad had narrowly avoided running into Anna as he walked through the kitchen door into the foyer.

Nobody said anything.

Anna’s face turned pink as Mike’s eyes widened, wondering what, if anything, she had heard. Brad looked at Anna, who stood motionless, staring at Mike. Tense seconds passed before she finally said, “do you want to walk the kids to school?” 

Mike couldn’t get out the door with the kids fast enough.


	16. Leaving on a jet plane.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Disclaimer: The lyrics in this chapter belong to John Denver, not me, and sadly, not Chester.

Mike couldn’t remember a time they’d left for tour when Chester had been as worked up as he was on this particular day. He was truly over the top this morning as they left for LAX, bound for Boston. Chester was in the back of the van, singing as usual, though this time it was full voice and ecstatic.

_So kiss me and smile for me_  
_Tell me that you'll wait for me_  
_Hold me like you'll never let me goooooooo_  
_'Cause I'm leavin' on a jet plane_  
_Don't know when I'll be back again_  
_Oh babe, I hate to goooooooo_

His eyes caught Mike’s in the screen as Mike videoed him with his phone, Mike mouthing the words along with him, making faces before Chester winked at him.

_There's so many times I've let you down_  
_So many times I've played around_  
_I tell you now, they don't mean a thing_  
_Ev'ry place I go, I'll think of you_  
_Ev'ry song I sing, I'll sing for you_  
_When I come back, I'll bring your wedding riiiiiiiiing_

With a wave of sadness, Mike stopped the video, forcing a smile but feeling the irony in the words Chester was singing. It was the song a lover would sing to someone he was leaving and anticipating returning to, not one to sing to the lover you’re escaping with. He wanted to turn and tell Chester to stop, but Dave seemed on high alert, watching Mike and Chester like a hawk, and he knew it would look suspicious. It was unprecedented for Mike to tell Chester to stop singing... he was the one member of the band who always encouraged Chester, no matter what time of day, location, or song happened to be coming out of the vocalist’s mouth. 

Instead, he busied himself with perfecting the captions on his video while Chester finished the song, his mind drifting to the conversation he’d had with Brad the day before. Even though he knew he was making excuses, he told himself he just hadn’t had time to talk to Chester as Brad had wanted. The truth was, he didn’t know what he was going to do about the entire situation.

 _I hope Anna didn’t hear any of my conversation with Brad, that’s all I need after the way she was acting while I was home. Since the morning she asked me about Chester… I hope I didn’t say anything else in my sleep… I hope I was attentive enough…_ It was with relief that he realized she didn’t ask him about Chester before he left. _I have to figure out how to talk to Chester. I’m not even sure I know what I want to say. I promised Brad I’d break it off, but I don’t really want to do that. I’m in love with him. I don’t think I can end it. Why can’t Brad just leave us alone?_

Dave and Chester were engaged in a conversation about tomorrow’s venue, Chester’s eyes flicking to Mike constantly, seeking his attention. It did not go unnoticed by Dave, who was also watching Mike work on his social media update. He’d felt something pass between Chester and Mike while Chester was singing, but he wasn’t sure what had happened that caused Mike to shut down the way he had. In his head, Mike was completely absorbed in yesterday’s conversation and was ignoring both of them. 

The knowledge that Brad was correct in every point he’d brought up the day before didn’t escape Mike’s logical thought processes. He simply wanted to deny that Brad was right, he wanted to blame it all on jealousy, and continue to do as he pleased. It seemed to Mike that the consequences of discovery could be avoided by simply not being discovered. _We just need to do better. Control is key. Nothing happens outside the four walls of the hotel room._

The fact of the matter was, neither Chester nor Mike could fully visualize how their affair was supposed to survive anyway, they were so wrapped up in each other at the present that the future seemed distant and incomprehensible. Whether Mike wanted to admit it or not, Brad was the only one of the three thinking clearly about the situation, and he didn’t even really know the extent of what he was meddling in when it came to Mike and Chester.

By the time they reached the airport, the video was posted and Mike had made up his mind. He was going to talk to Chester about being more discreet during the tour cycle, maybe even staying in their own beds at night. It was the only solution he could come up with that would make everyone happy. _Well, almost. I don’t want to upset Brad, but I don’t want to break it off with Chester more… sorry, Brad, but Chester is going to win every time._ Continuing to deceive Brad wasn’t a perfect solution, but he didn’t want to give up the amazing new connection he’d forged with Chester either. It really felt like the only solution, and feeling that he’d made a decision, Mike flashed Chester the smile the vocalist been craving as he stepped out of the van, holding a hand out to Chester, pulling him out to follow. 

**********

Despite Brad’s eyebrows furrowing together at the sight of Mike and Chester holding hands on the plane, the flight passed uneventfully due to Chester immediately falling asleep once they were in the air. Mike didn’t let go of his hand for the entire flight, which seemed to ruffle Brad’s feathers quite a bit, though he said nothing. 

Everyone had a few hours to kill, since they’d agreed to meet at five to go out for dinner, and Mike saw his opportunity to speak to Chester privately back at their rooms. He felt several pairs of eyes watching as he slid his keycard into the door and disappeared into the hotel room. Hearing Chester’s door shut in the next room over, he walked toward the connecting door to unlock it, knowing Chester would be there as soon as he washed his hands and face. It was Chester’s ritual to wash up and moisturize as soon as he could after flying, he had always hated the way planes made his skin feel. 

Flopping down on the bed, Mike felt fear bubbling up again, worrying about how Chester would take their conversation in just a few minutes. _The time is now, I have to talk to him before we meet up with the guys again tonight. I can do this, it’s not that big of a deal._ He’d seen a Starbucks in the lobby downstairs, and since coffee sounded like a necessary acquirement for this conversation to take place, Mike hurried back down to grab two cups from the tiny shop. 

Just as Mike came back into his room, the connecting door opened and Chester was there, looking distracted as his eyes landed on the coffee cups in Mike’s hands. Mike tried to smile, holding out one cup to Chester, but he wasn’t sure it even made it up to his eyes. The nauseated feeling he’d had when Brad showed up the day before was back in full force, and he was struggling to even sip the coffee he had in front of him. Chester sank into the seat next to the bed after plucking the drink from Mike’s outstretched hand. 

“How’d you know?! Thanks,” Chester said happily, closing his eyes as he took his first drink. 

Mike’s eyes drifted slowly over Chester’s face and the longing he felt for the vocalist shook his resolve. The delicate cheekbones, the long eyelashes, the softness of his lips, the sprinkling of stubble on his upper lip, the barely there scar beneath his lower lip, all conspired to change Mike’s mind. In the steps he’d taken to retrieve the coffee and come back, he’d carefully arranged his thoughts, the weight of what he and Chester were doing behind everyone’s backs propelling him toward doing as Brad had requested, and ending, at least for the duration of the tour, their sleeping arrangements. But the gentle stirring of desire he felt as he took in the look of satisfied contentment on Chester’s face made him want to be the _reason_ Chester’s face looked that way. 

“Ches… we need to talk.”

Raising an eyebrow, Chester joked, “are you breaking up with me, Shinoda?” When Mike sucked in a deep breath before answering, Chester’s playful expression changed and he frowned, asking, “seriously? What’s going on?”

The sparkle faded from Chester’s eyes, leaving the tired, stressed face with which he’d walked into the room, and Mike wondered how he was going to tell him what Brad had said standing in his kitchen yesterday morning.

“Chester…” The words seemed to stick in Mike’s throat. He swallowed, looked down at his coffee cup, his stomach churning, and finally choked out, “Brad… he knows.”

“ _What?_ ”

“I think he knows about us. I didn’t confirm anything!” Mike said hurriedly, as Chester’s eyes grew wide. “He came to the house yesterday, Ches, he told me I needed to end things with you. He didn’t outright say that he knew we were… sleeping together,” Mike’s voice lowered to a hush, “but I _know_ Brad, he didn’t have to say it. At the very least he suspects it.”

Chester held up a hand. “Go back. Walk me through what he said.”

Mike sighed, “God, I don’t remember everything. He wasn’t even there very long, he came in and the first thing he said was that I needed to end whatever was going on with you… and I tried to get him to tell me what he thought that was, but he was more interested in pointing out what could happen to the band if we were discovered. He wouldn’t even listen to me when I told him there was nothing going on with us. He just pointed out that we’d lose everything if Anna or Talinda found out, or the media… I don’t know, Ches,” Mike cupped a hand around the back of his neck, pressing his fingers into the tendon in the back, trying to relieve the tension. “I mean, I was thinking that maybe he’s right, maybe we needed to… I don’t know…” he looked up at Chester, desperation in his eyes. “Maybe we need to cool things off for a bit. And probably stay in our own rooms, you know? Maybe we really haven’t thought all this through.” 

The look on Chester’s face while Mike spoke was a mixture of anger, panic, and disbelief. “So… so you’re just saying that’s it? We’re done? I don’t understand you, Mike! I thought… I thought this was what you wanted. I thought _I_ was what you wanted, are you going to stand there and tell me that this- that _us_ \- means nothing to you? You’re going to let _Brad_ dictate what you do, what makes you happy?” Chester spit Brad’s name out like it was poison. “I always thought you were stronger than that, Mike. You’ve always stood up to Brad when it comes to the band, when it comes to _ME_!” He hit his chest with both hands, his fingers crossing in a x over his heart. “You’ve always had my back. And now you’re going to stand there and tell me that you’re too scared of what _might_ happen, of these ideas Brad put in your head, to sleep in the same bed as me? To kiss me? To allow yourself to feel what we both feel? You weren’t too scared two weeks ago when you stood there and begged me to allow this all to happen!” 

“Brad didn’t put those ideas there, I was already feeling that way, and you know it. We talked about it in the studio-”

“It didn’t seem to bother you much when I was fucking you into the floor that night.” Chester interrupted, setting down the coffee cup as he stood up and headed for the door, “I guess that’s all this was for you, all that talk about love was just a way for Mike Shinoda to get another thing he wanted from me.”

With that, Chester was out the door, slamming it behind him, leaving Mike staring at the empty space he was just in, sinking down onto the bed, not believing how it had gone so wrong so quickly. _How dare he just walk out on me like that! Maybe Brad is right, nothing good is going to come of this. God, Chester can be so volatile! All I asked for was a little space to sort things out, to get Brad off my back._

Shaking his head, he reached for his phone, firing off a quick text asking Chester to come back. 

When it was time to leave for dinner, Chester hadn’t returned, hadn’t texted back. It wasn’t unlike Chester to need time to cool down, but that knowledge didn’t ease the worry that had knotted itself in Mike’s stomach. _Who knows where he’s at, or what he’s doing. I hate it when he just disappears._ He pulled the door shut behind him just as Rob emerged from the room across the hall.

“So, where’s Chester?” Rob asked as they walked down the hallway to the elevator.

Sighing, Mike rubbed his neck again and replied, “he took off an hour or so ago. We… he… well, he just needed to get away for a bit.”

Rob glanced down at Mike’s worried expression, and asked simply, “everything okay?”

Mike nodded, not trusting his voice, and Rob let it go, knowing he’d talk when he was ready. _Rob is the best person to have around when you don’t want to talk_ , thought Mike, stepping in the elevator, grateful for the comfortable silence.

Everyone was in the van except Chester, and when Jim asked where he was, Rob was the one who spoke up and said, “Chester’s not coming.” Simple. To the point. No details.

Out of the corner of his eye, Mike saw Brad look over at him, the question clear on his face, but Mike couldn’t bring himself to look at the guitarist. He was too hurt, too angry at Brad, to have any sort of conversation about it, especially not in front of the others. Keeping his face turned to the window, Mike ignored Brad’s stare until he finally looked away, and Mike just kept looking out the window while the other four engaged in conversation about what they expected to order at the restaurant. It wasn’t like Mike to stay out of conversations, particularly those about food, but his brooding stare kept the others’ questions at bay. By unspoken agreement, they were all just going to let Mike’s mood pass on its own, knowing full well it had to do with Chester’s absence.

The next time Mike spoke it was to order bourbon from their waitress, and Brad’s eyebrows shot up as Mike chose a particularly expensive one to try. “What?” Mike challenged as he caught the judgement in Brad’s eyes.

Brad sighed. “Nothing.”

“He’s not here. I’m going to have a drink. Anyone else?” Mike looked around the table at his bandmates, who all declined except Dave.

“You’re right, I’ll have a beer. It’s been awhile since we drank together out on tour,” Dave smiled as he reminisced about their younger, cheap beer drinking days.

Rob nodded, smiling too as Joe began a story about beer and the first Projekt Revolution tour, keeping a careful eye on Mike, who looked completely dejected. He knew something had happened between Mike and Chester, and whatever it was had caused Chester to run away and Mike to drink on tour. He was going to have to make sure Mike didn’t overdo it tonight.

**********

“You gonna be ok, man?” Rob’s face was creased with worry.

“Yeah, yeah… I’m fine.” They were back at the hotel, a few bourbons later, and Rob had to steady Mike with a hand on his elbow before turning to his own door, issuing the advice to let him know if Mike needed anything later. “Thanks,” Mike mumbled, fumbling with the key card, managing to finally get it into the slot and stumble back into the safety of his hotel room. Confusion spread through his thoughts as his eyes took in the lit candles along the dresser, the desk, the table beside the bed. As the flames flickered they cast dancing shadows on the wall, and Mike gasped as he realized he wasn’t alone. 

“Hey,” came Chester’s low voice, and Mike’s eyes widened as he watched the singer sit up from where he’d been laying on Mike’s bed. 

“Chester?”

He wasn’t expecting Chester to be back, much less in his room, after their argument earlier, but there he was, shirtless and wearing Mike’s favorite pair of dark skinny jeans, his face sultry in the candlelight. Slowly, Chester stalked Mike, an almost dangerous look in his chocolate brown eyes as he drew closer, sliding his body as close to Mike’s as he could without actually touching him, both palms flat against the door on either side of Mike’s head.

Mike stood with his back against the door, chest rising and falling with anxiety, feeling the warmth of the alcohol he’d consumed, feeling confused about everything that was happening, feeling Chester’s breath fan across his face as he breathed out, “tell me, Mike, after tonight, whether or not you can give this up.”


	17. Candlelight

Mike was frozen, unable to look away from the candlelight reflecting in Chester’s eyes, the door supporting his slightly wobbly legs. His head was spinning, not so much that he felt sick, but enough for him to know that he wasn’t sober yet. Chester held still, and Mike could feel the warmth of his skin through his t-shirt, even though they weren’t touching.

With his hands still flat against the door, Chester leaned in and brushed his lips softly across Mike’s, and Mike heard a surprised gasp come from the singer. “Mikey, have you been drinking?” The tip of Chester’s tongue flicked against Mike’s lower lip, tasting, and Mike swallowed a moan as Chester tasted the bourbon on his mouth and hushed, “you’re so naughty, you know I can’t have bourbon.”

“Ches… sorry… I didn’t know you were coming back,” Mike breathed, right before Chester licked his bottom lip again, so slowly, inhaling the lingering scent of the alcohol he loved on the skin of the man he loved. The world was spinning from the bourbon and from Chester’s silky tongue, and Mike pressed his hands against the door, seeking balance, as Chester sucked his bottom lip into his mouth. Time was simultaneously moving fast and slow for Mike as the world continued to spin behind his closed eyelids, and Chester slowly ran his tongue along his bottom lip, seeking entrance to his mouth. It was with a low moan that Mike’s lips parted and Chester took the opportunity, gliding his tongue inside, seeking the taste of bourbon, and the taste of Mike. Chester held carefully still, not touching Mike anywhere else, stroking along the inside of Mike’s mouth deeply, savoring the combination of the alcohol he dearly missed and his lover, his Mike. 

Mike was barely standing upright, his balance points only his hands on the door and Chester’s lips in front of him. _I didn’t think I drank that much… maybe it’s just Chester making me feel this way…_ The kiss lasted, and lasted, and Mike was starting to feel lightheaded when Chester pulled away, both of them gasping for air, Mike’s eyes closed and his head leaning against the door. _I don’t know what is happening right now._

“You taste… so incredible…” Chester’s breath was hot in Mike’s ear, and he felt his knees shake a little more. “I think you’re a little drunk, Mikey.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” Mike responded, “just a little. I’ll be fine.”

Soft lips dragged down the curve of Mike’s neck, Chester moved his hands from the door to both side of Mike’s face, tilting his head to the side to suck and lick and kiss under his jaw, taking his time, listening to Mike’s breathing grow uneven. He was savoring the feeling of Chester’s lips on him when a tiny little voice in the back of his head, a voice that sounded suspiciously like Brad playing the role of his conscience, asked him what he was doing. The little voice wanted to know when Chester had apologized for his hurtful words. The little voice wanted to know why he stormed out and left him hanging all night, so much that he needed Rob make sure he got safely back to the correct room. 

“Chester… Chester… stop…” Mike was pushing at his shoulders, trying hard to think with his brain and not his hormones. He felt Chester’s hands push into his hair, and he sighed, relishing the contact, before he reached up and grabbed Chester’s wrists. “I said stop.”

“Why?” Chester purred, lips at Mike’s ear, “I need to show you how good we are together. I need you to understand that I need you and you need me and we are not breaking up.”

The haze in his mind seemed to clear for a moment. “No. You were the one who said this afternoon that I was using you for sex.” His grip tightened on Chester’s wrists, enough that Chester winced at the pressure. “I’m not going to let you come back in here and try to solve our problems with sex after what you said to me.”

Chester stood with his mouth open, inches from Mike’s face, completely without words to express himself. Mike closed his eyes against the image, unable to stop the spinning completely, knowing if he kept looking at Chester his resolve would crumble and they’d be naked in minutes. “Where’d you go, Ches? Why’d you leave me? You didn’t even give me a chance to explain. I don’t want to break up. Break up? Are we really even together?”

Mike cracked an eye open and looked at Chester’s face, at the candlelight shining in the depths, and felt the tears coming. He’d never been drunk and in love with Chester and so close to Chester all at the same time, and everything that had felt exciting and new and perfect two weeks ago was tarnished with Chester’s earlier words. 

“You don’t have anything to say? Ches, you can’t just storm out of here after accusing me of not even loving you, and then light some candles and wait half naked for me on the bed. That’s not going to work.”

Mike dropped Chester’s wrists then, pushing his back heavily off the door and carefully making his way to the bed to sit on the edge. Chester stood where Mike left him, facing the door instead of Mike, still apparently unable to figure out what to say. 

“Oh, Ches,” he said softly, “you think you can solve everything this way, don’t you? I don’t just want you for your body, Chester, that’s not me. That’s not ever been me. That’s why I can’t believe you said… you said…” and Mike couldn’t stop the sobs bubbling up in his chest, the broken sadness he felt that Chester had categorized him with everyone else, that Chester had jumped to conclusions and fired off at him without thinking about what he was saying. A person who was selfish and used others was the worst kind of person in Chester’s mind, and when he had carelessly tossed Mike in the heap of people who only valued him for his body, he’d wounded Mike’s heart deeply. 

With his head in his hands, Mike’s sobs and sniffles continued, much to Chester’s dismay. This was not the way he’d planned the evening. He’d stormed out earlier on a mission, a plan forming in his head to convince Mike that nothing mattered except the two of them. He didn’t give a fuck about what anyone else thought. Unfortunately, he hadn’t taken into account the damage that the angry words he’d used, that leaving Mike behind, would cause. 

Turning, he made his way to where Mike was sitting on the side of the bed, kneeling between his knees and placing his hands on Mike’s thighs. “I’m sorry, I was an asshole. I was angry at Brad for being in our business and I took it out on you. Mike, I thought you wanted to end this, and I just snapped. I mean… I told you that first night that we… that we were… _intimate_... that I was all in, Mike. I couldn’t stand the thought of you changing your mind. I… Jesus, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said any of that stuff.”

Mike looked up, his eyes red and glassy. “Don’t you know I love you, Chester? I know I’ve been a wreck but it’s because I can’t figure this out, how to be with you. It doesn’t matter how evolved we are as a society, most people still wouldn’t understand us being together, and that’s even after what everyone would say about our divorces… our kids-” Mike’s voice broke on the last word, the unfathomable thought of losing his kids too painful. “I can’t believe Brad, I mean, what gives him the right to make demands? They wouldn’t even know if we hadn’t been so stupid…” 

Chester sighed, squeezing Mike’s thighs, “I have no idea what we were thinking. And yes, Mike, I know you love me… and I know this isn’t just sex for you… I wish I could take back what I said. All I can do is tell you how sorry I am. I… are you thinking about divorce, Mike? I mean, we haven’t really talked about any of this.”

Mike’s face was back in his hands, tears still falling. “I don’t know, Chester! I told you, I don’t think I can keep lying to Anna! It was bad enough knowing that I was in love with you before you knew it, trying to hide that from everyone… I’m so confused and Brad’s in my head and then you _left_ me and now I’m drunk and I hate being drunk!” 

The reality of how badly he’d hurt Mike stabbed Chester in the heart at those words. It had been a long time since he’d seen Mike actually drunk. All of the guys had been very aware of their alcohol consumption since Chester had been to rehab all those years ago, and it was rare for Chester to see Mike with even a glass of wine in his hand. For him to go out and purposefully get drunk was something Mike would never have done if he had thought there was a possibility of seeing Chester later. He realized that Mike truly thought there was no chance he’d see Chester that night. Rising from between Mike’s legs, Chester’s arms gathered him close and he felt the sniffs and shudders as Mike tried to stop crying. 

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I love you, I don’t want to fight with you, Mikey, please…” 

“I just don’t know what to do, Chester, I don’t know how to make everyone happy.”

“Mike, listen to me. We don’t need to make any decisions right now, but when we do, we have to make those decisions together. They will affect so many people. I was walking around this afternoon, thinking... and I know it sounds crazy... especially since we both agreed that this was _our_ secret, but... “ Chester took a deep breath, and he felt Mike tense in his arms. “I think we should tell them. Just the guys. Not Talinda and Anna, not yet. But… maybe we’d have more clarity if we weren’t sneaking around the guys. You already think Brad knows, I’m sure they’ve all talked about it. We don’t keep secrets from each other. Maybe they will have some perspective that we don’t.”

“No!” Mike pushed Chester’s arms away, standing up and then stumbling, grabbing Chester’s shoulder to keep balance. “We’re not telling them anything, no! What is _wrong_ with you?”

Chester looked up into Mike’s frantic face, at a complete loss. “What’s wrong with _you_?! I can’t follow you, Mike, one minute you’re ready to get a divorce, and the next you’re telling me we can’t tell our band? Don’t you think we owe it to them to tell them first? They’ve been there since the very beginning, Mike, they deserve the truth, if they don’t already know!”

“And _you_ were the one blaming Brad, and now you want to bring him into this? How is that going to help us, Chester?!”

They glared at each other for a moment before the anger faded out of Mike’s face, leaving him looking scared and confused. “I don’t know how to fix this, Chester. I almost want to go back to the way it was, before. Before I knew how you felt. Before we had sex in Birmingham, before the last shred of common sense went out the window. We’re so far gone now I don’t know how to make it right. I want to be with you more than I want anything else. I can’t imagine my life without the band, though, what will happen if we tell them, Ches? And what’s to stop any of them from telling Anna or Talinda?”

“They wouldn’t,” Chester said with conviction. “We don’t air each other’s laundry, we never have. I trust them, Mike. We don’t have to do anything now, but we have a lot to talk about and decide before this tour is over. The only thing I can say about Brad being in our business is that he’s right. This can’t continue the way it is. I’m 41 years old, Mike. Life is too short. You said it yourself, you don’t want to just feel alive when we’re together, alone… don’t we deserve happiness?”

“I don’t know. Do we? At everyone else’s expense?” Mike closed his eyes as Chester’s hand closed around his wrist, and he stood up, pulling Mike toward him. 

“Let’s think about that tomorrow. Let’s worry about everyone else tomorrow. I’ve missed you.” Chester’s voice dropped low, hungry, wanting. “I want you.”

Eyes still closed, Mike nodded, his face desperate. “Me too, Ches. I’ve missed you too,” he whispered as Chester reached to bring their lips together, softly, “but I don’t want you to try to convince me we should be together. Just love me. Just be mine. Let’s leave everything else out.” Chester’s lips brushed against his the way they had earlier in the evening, just the slightest bit of contact, and Mike felt the tears coming again. “You’re right, Chester, I can’t give this up, I can’t give you up.”

“Shhhh,” Chester hushed, pulling Mike to the bed, guiding him down, and settling next to him. Mike had fallen onto his back, his legs dangling over the side, the palms of both hands facing the ceiling. Chester lifted his head and propped it on one hand, watching Mike’s face as another tear leaked out, and he leaned over to wipe it gently away with his thumb. “Don’t cry,” he whispered as Mike opened his eyes in time to see Chester bring the thumb to his mouth, tasting. 

Their eyes met and Mike whimpered, “it’s not just sex, Chester, it’s not. I’ve loved you so long, and so quietly, and I never imagined this would ever be our reality. I never thought you’d want me too, I never imagined that even if you did, we’d give in… this is going to change everything.”

“Didn’t you just tell me to leave out everything else?” Chester smiled, “don’t we have a song like that or something?” The tiniest bit of a smile graced Mike’s lips as Chester softly sang, “leave out all the rest.” His hand took Mike’s up to his lips and he whispered between kissing each fingertip, “I’ve always… loved… your hands… and these fingers… that create our music…” he switched to Mike’s other hand as Mike looked up at him, watching each kiss, “I love… when you… play piano… for… me...” He brought Mike’s hand up to his cheek, leaning into his palm, and Mike caressed the smooth skin he felt there. “I’ll be here, singing for you, as long as you are playing for me. I’ll be here, trying to keep up, I’ll do my best for you, as long as you’ll keep me, Mikey.”

Mike moved his hand to Chester’s neck, bringing him down to kiss him gently, that one simple kiss saying everything about how he felt about Chester. _I love him so much it hurts._

The world was no longer spinning around him, but Mike still felt heavy, as though his limbs were weighted down. His hand fell away from Chester and he felt Chester slide a leg over his body, then hovering over him, no contact being made except for Chester’s nose nuzzling in his hair, his lips gliding around his ear, barely skimming his skin. The absence of direct contact made Mike shiver even though his insides were warm, his whole body longing for the feeling of Chester lying on him. One hand moved to rest right under the curve of Chester’s ass, his palm cupping gently, encouraging Chester to drop his hips into Mike’s and they both sighed at the same time, appreciating the contact. The heat of their earlier argument forgotten, Chester dissolved into Mike, burying his face between his neck and shoulder, pressing his body down as Mike’s arms linked behind his back, holding him close, tightly, as their breaths slowed into one pattern, and Chester kissed Mike’s neck, inhaling his scent.

Mike’s movements were slow, a little sloppy, as he moved his hands over Chester’s bare back, imagining each tattoo in his mind as long fingers traced them, and he absently wondered why he had never sketched Chester’s back. He had reached the point where he had the perfect amount of alcohol in his system, no longer spinning drunk, but not sober either, and he wanted more than anything to bury himself inside Chester’s body and forget everything else, to lose himself in the heat and the energy and the delicate blossoming love between them. Chester’s hands were buried in his hair, his fingertips tight against Mike’s skull as he sucked on Mike’s neck, both of them beyond caring if any marks were left. 

One of Chester’s hands moved to pull the neck of Mike’s t-shirt down, giving him more access to the sunkissed skin there, licking along his collarbone as Mike’s hips pressed gently up into his, soft whimpers of pleasure emanating from Mike’s throat. “I love you… I love you so much…” Chester whispered, his breath cool across the wet spots he’d left on Mike’s skin.

“I love you too, Ches.” 

Mike lifted his arms over his head as Chester tugged on his shirt, throwing it over the side of the bed and dropping back down, their chests touching skin to skin as Chester dropped his lips over Mike’s again, kissing him thoroughly before quietly declaring, “I can still taste the bourbon.”

“I’m sorry… I’m sorry I drank so much.” 

“Don’t… I don’t crave it nearly as much as I crave the taste of you,” Chester husked against his lips. 

Mike felt the ripple of desire shoot through his body as their lips connected again, and he felt like he was falling as their hands began to move more urgently, rubbing along with more pressure, feeling each other’s skin, tender soft places and firmer muscled places, searching for places that made each other gasp or writhe in pleasure, still discovering what made the other man feel good. When Chester made a move to unbutton Mike’s jeans, Mike clamped a hand over his and said, “no, not yet,” as he moved to slide Chester underneath him, his equilibrium having returned enough to move from his back. 

He started at Chester’s neck, light kisses along the curve, a bite at the dip in his collarbone, dragging his lips down across his chest to suck a nipple between his lips, teasing the tight bud with his tongue as he reached to roll the other nipple between his fingers, enjoying the sighs he heard from above. Both of Chester’s hands were in his hair again, stroking and lightly pulling as Mike worked his way around the singer’s slim body. With both nipples between his fingers, Mike slid his tongue down Chester’s ribcage, feeling his back lift from the bed involuntarily to increase the contact, Mike smiling against his skin as he heard that voice he’d know anywhere cry out, “oh, Miiiiiike.” He was so aroused it hurt, his erection straining against his jeans, and he pressed down into the mattress for some small degree of relief as he dipped his tongue inside Chester’s bellybutton, drawing circles there as his fingers feathered down Chester’s sides, hooking around the top of his jeans and running along the hemline, causing more low exclamations of his name. Mike looked up, the candlelight falling over Chester’s skin with a soft glow, at Chester’s face, eyes shut tightly in euphoria, and murmured, “I love the way you say my name when we’re alone.”

Peeling off Chester’s jeans was as frustrating as ever, the way they clung to his legs making it difficult to remove them quickly. Mike sat back once he had Chester naked, gazing over his body, committing to his memory they way the candlelight cast certain places in shadow and illuminated others, the way the gentle flickers made his pale skin seem alive with its own energy, beckoning Mike to take him. Resting back on his heels, he pressed the palm of his hand to his own jeans, groaning at the contact, feeling as though he would lose it just at the sight of Chester naked on the bed, waiting for him. “Do you see what you do to me, Ches? I’ve never wanted anyone as much as I want you. I want every part of you. I want the secrets you’ve got locked away in your mind. I want the lyrics you haven’t told me yet. I want the silly shit you say at one am. I want the way you sigh when you look at the sunrise. I want everything. I don’t just want your body, Chester. I want it all.”

With that he sank down, sliding both hands under Chester’s ass and lifting his hips, nudging his knees out to the side, leaving Chester exposed, vulnerable. He trailed tiny kisses down one thigh, then the other, listening to Chester’s small cries and breaths of his name, _Mike, Mike, oh, Mike_ , watching him paw helplessly at the sheets as Mike pulled him closer, running a fingertip slowly up his leg, then brushing over his erection lightly, causing Chester’s hips to buck up to meet him. He kissed down along his hip bone, his nose skimming the skin, inhaling the lavender body wash Chester had used for years. He finally closed first a hand, then his mouth over Chester’s waiting erection, pressing his tongue firmly along the length, slowly moving his hand in time with his mouth, drawing out each stroke and causing Chester’s legs to tremble. Maintaining a slow and torturous pace was hard on Mike as well, his own arousal untended, pulsing against the confines of his jeans, begging for a hand, a mouth, _something_ to relieve the pressure. Still, Mike took his time, pushing his own desires to the side in order to focus all his energy on Chester, losing himself in the taste and feel and smell of the one he’d wanted for so long, the one he wanted forever. 

It was almost reluctantly that he pulled away, looking up at Chester’s eyes while he moaned encouragements, watching Mike lube his fingers and then slowly press inside Chester’s body. Groaning at the tight heat he found, Mike fumbled with the button and zipper of his jeans, reaching his other hand inside and stroking himself in time with the gentle manipulations he was using to prepare Chester. Chester was lost in the sensations, his voice rising and falling as he grew impatient, his hands reaching for Mike. Withdrawing his fingers brought a deep sigh from Chester, and Mike stood next to the bed and removed the rest of his clothes, looking down as Chester opened his eyes and gazed at him, desire reflected by candlelight, his eyes impossibly beautiful and sincere and loving. 

It was with a moment of clarity that Mike realized, _I love him. I love him and there’s no turning back to who we used to be. This is us, now, me and Chester and this is our future._

Mike grasped Chester’s wrists over his head as he entered his body slowly, their eyes on each other as he pushed against the initial resistance, Chester biting his lip at first while his body adjusted to the intrusion. “God, Ches… you feel amazing…” he whimpered, his voice shaking, his emotions so close to the surface that he thought he might be reduced to tears again. Chester’s hands were on him, pulling him close, and Mike leaned in to capture his lips, their kiss deep and slow and familiar. They set a tantalizing pace, Chester slowly moving his hips up to meet Mike’s gentle, deep thrusts, neither eager to finish but both reveling in the delicious feel of their sweat slicked bodies connected so intimately.

As he pushed and pulled in and out of Chester’s body, Mike realized that even though he was the one in control, Chester had gotten what he wanted when he was laying on the bed, waiting for Mike to return from dinner. He had wanted to prove to Mike that they belonged together, and he’d intended to make his point in exactly this way. _It’s Chester who always gets what he wants, not me._ Mike was determined that Chester never accuse him of using him again. 

With his lips against Chester’s ear, Mike slowed his thrusts to punctuate hot whispers.

Push. “Don’t.”  
Pull. “Ever.”  
Push. “Say.”  
Pull. “This.”  
Push. “Is.”  
Pull. “Just.”  
Push. “Sex.”  
Pull. “Again.”

With that, Mike thrust as deeply as he could, holding Chester tight against him, his chest seizing at the loud moan from Chester’s lips and the way the singer pulled his wrists from Mike’s grasp and buried his hands in Mike’s sweaty hair. “Mike... Mike... Mike,” he chanted, his fingers pulling Mike’s face around to look into his eyes, though he was struggling to focus on anything. “I know... I know… I love you.”

Mike reached between them then, stroking Chester in time with his thrusts, ready for both of their releases, the building tension unbearable. He couldn’t look away from Chester’s face, his captivating eyes that had drawn Mike inside so many years ago, those deep brown eyes that followed him always, those eyes that were struggling to stay open as the pleasure Mike was bringing consumed him. It was only a few strokes until Chester couldn’t hold his orgasm back, one hand above his head, twisted in the sheets and the other on Mike’s shoulder as he bucked up into his hand, and Mike felt the intensity in the way his body squeezed him tightly, the moaning and shuddering blazing through his own body, his ability to delay his own gratification lost as he ground deep inside Chester, losing himself in the perfect synchronicity of their bodies, the powerful climax rendering him completely breathless and shaken. He stayed buried inside Chester as they lay, panting, sweaty, their energy spent. It was with great effort that he pulled away, sliding next to Chester and kissing his glistening neck, tasting the salt of his skin.

“Wow. Ahhhhh… that was amazing.” Chester looked over at him, and smiled, “and to think, I was going to seduce you.” 

Mike was too tired to think of words. He just sighed, stretching his arm out to reach the one Chester had over his head, linking their fingers together, nothing but contentment between them, all other important matters tossed to the side for the moment. He had almost drifted off to sleep when he felt Chester move, and he opened his eyes as he slid out of the bed and walked around the room, blowing out the candles, and Mike watched the way muscles in his naked back side danced under his skin as he moved. Once the last candle was out and the room plunged into total darkness, Mike felt Chester slide back into the bed, hooking an arm around his waist, softly kissing his cheek. Everything else was going to have to wait until tomorrow.


	18. Tattoo

“They’re not coming down,” Rob said at breakfast, his eyes first flicking to Dave as he pocketed his phone, then Brad, who looked annoyed.

“Mike hung over?” Dave asked, concerned.

“Or is it Chester?” Brad snipped, drawing a dark look from the other three band members. 

“It’s Mike,” confirmed Rob calmly, emptying his sugar packet into his coffee, “he certainly had enough to drink last night.”

Everyone sat in silence for a few minutes, each lost in their own thoughts of what could be happening behind closed doors, floors away from where they sat. 

“Well,” Joe said finally, “at least the meet and greet isn’t until the afternoon. He’ll be fine by then. I’ll take him some toast or something when we’re done.” 

Rob looked at Dave, and Brad looked at Rob, and then Dave and Rob and Brad looked at Joe. 

“What?” Joe said with an air of innocence. “I just want to make sure he’s okay. You know, swing by the room, see if he needs anything…” He scowled at everyone’s skeptical look. “See what’s going on,” he mumbled.

“There’s nothing going on,” Rob said. “Mike’s sick. That’s all.”

“That _better_ be all,” Brad said, and all eyes turned back to him, frowning into his morning tea and newspaper. Rob just sipped his coffee, eyeing Brad, saying nothing, wondering how much Brad knew.

*************************************************************************

Mike inhaled deeply, eyes closed, Chester’s neck close and warm against his nose, his back against Mike’s chest, his ass tucked up against Mike’s crotch. _I want to wake up like this forever. I want to wake up with my face in his hair, I want him next to me, I want to hear his breathing. I want everything, just like I told him last night. This is all so fast._

He brushed his lips along the back of Chester’s neck, but Chester didn’t even stir. Mike smiled to himself, amused by his lover’s ability to sleep so deeply. It was an opportunity to move his hands along Chester’s smooth skin, his fingertips lovingly caressing the sleeping beauty in front of him. It still felt unreal, that they had crossed that invisible line, that they had become more than the best friends they had been for so long, that Mike’s secret dreams were being realized. _Where do we go from here? What will happen to us? What will happen to the band? What’s going to happen to my family?_

Long minutes passed, Mike’s hand roaming Chester’s skin, when he opened his eyes and pulled Chester into his body closer, and finally the singer seemed to wake under his gentle touch. His muscles barely flexed under Mike’s hand and then came a sleepy, contented whisper, “good morning, Mikey.”

Mike kissed in Chester’s hair and responded, “morning, Ches.” They lay in contented silence as Chester woke up slowly, lows hums of happiness escaping his throat as Mike continued to run his hand along his skin.

“That feels… sooooo.... goooooood,” he mumbled, turning his face into the pillow and pushing his ass back into Mike’s morning erection. 

“You’re so warm.”

“Mmmm-hmmm. I slept good. How ya feelin’?”

“Amazing.”

“No hangover?”

“Nah,” Mike chuckled softly, “I can hold my liquor.” Silence stretched between them, and then, lowly, “I’m sorry I drank last night, Chester. I didn’t mean for you to be around me like that.”

“ ‘S ok… I should have told you I’d be back. I shouldn’t have ignored your text.”

“You’re forgiven. Clearly,” Mike hushed, gripping Chester’s hip and pushing against him. 

There was a smile in Chester’s voice as he responded, “yes, clearly.” He rolled over, facing Mike, taking his hand, an angelic smile on his lips. “You’re forgiven, too. I could never stay mad at you.” 

Mike was lost in those sweet, sleepy, love filled brown eyes, feeling the need to close his own for a moment, the emotions between them too intense, and he hadn’t had any coffee yet. _Hah, I need coffee to deal with Chester in the mornings now?_ “I don’t want to go to breakfast. Let’s stay here this time. We can even use me as the excuse.” Chester raised an eyebrow, and Mike caught the quizzical look on his face. “Tell Bourdie I’m hungover.”

The smile stretched across Chester’s entire face. “You’re bad. I like it.”

“Let’s just be lazy this morning. C’mon, it’s the perfect excuse.” Mike squeezed Chester’s hand, his face puppy dog soft and pleading, and he knew that he would win with that look.

It took less than two seconds. “Damn, I can’t resist that face.” Chester chuckled, sitting up in the bed and looking around, slightly disoriented. “Where’s my phone?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. You were here when I got in last night, where did you leave it?” Mike made a halfhearted attempt to look around the room, but fell back into the pillows without spying either of their phones. “I don’t know where mine is either.”

“Probably still in your pants,” Chester guessed, sliding out of bed. Mike couldn’t help but follow his naked form as he sauntered over to the desk in the room, picking up his phone and thumbing a quick text to Rob. He looked up to see Mike’s needy gaze, and they both felt the desire stir in the pit of their stomachs. The sexual energy had always been there between them, and it seemed that since it had been unleashed, there was no end to their need for each other. Even in the morning, even before coffee. 

_He makes me crazy doing absolutely nothing,_ Mike thought as Chester slid back into the bed, closing the space between them as he hooked an arm over Mike’s waist and cuddled into him. He felt Chester’s lips on his collarbone, lightly kissing the unmarked skin there, as Mike asked, “you didn’t wait for a reply?”

“Nah,” Chester replied, then, pressing another kiss to Mike’s neck, “am I ever going to talk you into a tattoo? We could put one right...” he kissed the dip in Mike’s collarbone, “here. It would be soooooo sexy.”

Rolling his eyes even though Chester couldn’t see him, Mike said, “we’ve had this talk approximately… seven thousand times.”

Stumped, Chester stopped his kisses and leaned his head back to gaze up at Mike. “Seven thousand? Where’d you get that number?”

“Well, I’ve known you since nineteen ninety-eight, so that’s almost twenty years, and twenty multiplied by three hundred sixty-five is seven thousand three hundred, and I think we’ve talked about this every day since we met, so seven thousand seems like a safe bet.”

Chester shook his head with a smile, “so you’re just doing all this math in your head this early in the morning, Shinoda?”

Mike shrugged, grinning, “I’m good at math.”

“You’re good at everything,” Chester breathed, his mouth reaching for Mike’s, their lips moving together softly for a moment. “I have no idea how I got so lucky to end up in your band.” His face was so serious, a hint of wistfulness in his tone, and Mike brushed his fingers along Chester’s cheek, a far away look in his eyes.

“I remember when I knew I was in love with you. I remember the very day I realized it. It was the morning of a show in New Zealand… I woke up just like this, with your arm around my waist, and I opened my eyes and saw your face… and it just hit me… it took my breath away, Ches, to realize I’d fallen in love with you… and I didn’t know what to do. I just laid there, looking at you, wanting so badly to kiss you right then… and here we are, and I can just lean over and do this whenever I want to.” He kissed Chester again, quickly, and went on, “so I’m the lucky one, Ches. None of this would be possible without you. None of it… and I reminded Brad about that when he was giving me shit. I think he’s jealous of you.”

Chester snorted before he winked and said, “of course he’s jealous. I’ve got _you._ Who wouldn’t be jealous? Mike fuckin’ Shinoda, in my bed.”

Mike rolled his eyes again, and this time Chester saw and smiled as Mike whispered, “Chester fuckin’ Bennington, in my bed.”

They giggled together for a moment at the impossibility of it all, the sheer joy and relief they had in the realization of their love, and then Chester’s phone vibrated from where he’d placed it on the table beside the bed. He rolled over, glanced at the screen, and set it down, turning back to Mike. “Bourdie. Says to take care of you, and a winky face.”

“What the fuck is the winky face for?” Mike asked, laughing again. 

“You know his sense of humor. He’s probably thinking we’re up here fucking anyway.” The smile faded from Chester’s face, and he asked seriously, “have you thought about what I said last night at all? About telling them?”

Mike sighed, the lighthearted mood waning. “I haven’t really had time, Ches, between banging your brains out and sleeping, I haven’t really thought about how to upend their lives.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, Mikey. I think they’ll take it better than you think. I’m telling you, they probably already know. And you might be overdoing it a bit to assume it will upend their lives. I think after the shock wears off- if there even is any- they won’t really care.”

“Ches? You’re insane. Of course they’re going to care. You know Brad and his obsession with keeping things ‘inside the band’ and ‘no negative press’. He’s going to lose his mind. Honestly, I have no idea how we’d keep this out of the media.”

It was silent again before Chester said, “maybe we just wait until the end of the tour. We’ll finish up, and nobody will expect to see us out and about again while we’re working on the next album. We could just… disappear from the radar for a while. Go out of the country or something.” 

“We _are not_ leaving the country, Ches. I’m not leaving my kids.” 

“Maybe Hawaii?”

Mike smiled, picturing Chester in a waterfall in Maui, skin glittering in the mist around him. “I could fuck you in Hawaii,” he said, his voice sultry. 

“Seems like you could fuck me anywhere,” Chester replied, placing his palm on Mike’s boxers. 

“Ahhhh… true… yesssss… anywhere…” Mike pushed into his hand, closing his eyes, savoring the contact before he forced himself to continue the necessary conversation, closing his hand around Chester’s flamed wrist and moving it away, mumbling, “I don’t want to tell them, Ches. I’m afraid we’re going to lose everything. What if they don’t want a break? What if they want to break up? What if us being together ends the band? Have you thought about that?” He knew they needed to come to some sort of agreement of how to proceed before they met up with the guys later, even if Chester’s hand had been stroking his dick and he had suddenly become obsessed with the idea of being inside Chester again. _First things first. Can’t. Give. In. Right. Now._

His wrist still in Mike’s grip, Chester considered those words and shook his head. “No way. There’s no way, Mike, they won’t do that. I just keep wondering, if we tell them, will they keep it within the band? We have an agreement, you know. Once it goes in the vault, it doesn’t come out.”

“Is that what you want? You want it vaulted?” Mike’s eyebrows drew together as he worried over this thought, unsure where Chester’s thoughts would end up on the subject. “I mean… that’s one way to do it. But… is that your long term solution?”

“I don’t know… it seems like a temporary one at least. You mentioned divorce last night, and I don’t know how much you’ve thought about it, but it sucks, Mike. I don’t ever want to do it again.”

Mike’s grip on Chester’s wrist tightened and his breath caught in his throat. “Ches… are you saying… you might never want to _be_ together? Like, really _together_?” It felt like the air was being sucked out of the room and he couldn’t get any oxygen to his lungs. 

Quickly, Chester shook his head. “No! I’m not saying that, I’m just saying, it’s not something to consider lightly, Mike. It’s going to change everything. I mean, I have a prenup, but you… hell, you married Anna before Meteora hit, we were just coming into money at that point…”

“I don’t care about the money, Ches… all I care about are my kids. And I don’t want it to be bitter. I want to be friends. I love her, I do. I just… I love you more.” Mike closed his eyes again, ashamed of himself, wishing that things were different, that he wouldn’t be hurting so many people. _I can’t undo what’s done. I can’t go back and not fall in love with him. It was meant to be this way from the start._

“It’s going to be ok, Mike. It’s all going to work out,” Chester whispered, drawing his wrist out of Mike’s grip, touching his chest with a warm hand. “Let’s wait until the end of the tour. Five weeks. We’ll tell the guys and then finish off the west coast and Japan, and everyone can take a break. We can figure out the rest then. There’s no need to rush anything.” Spreading his fingers over Mike’s chest, he touched the dip in Mike’s collarbone again with a single fingertip. “A tattoo, right here, I’ll figure out something perfect, something that symbolizes us. I’ll get it too… right here.” He pointed to a space above his heart.

Mike smiled and closed his hand over Chester’s, where he was still pointing. “You left a space for me, huh?”

Smiling, Chester nodded, “you’re going above my heart. I’ve got to get Lily and Lila on here too. I want you there with me when I do it.”

“Oh, I see how it is. You think if I’m there you’ll talk me into it too.” Mike smiled, realizing that suddenly, after all these years, the likelihood of him getting out of having a tattoo to match one of Chester’s was slim to none. The man was damn convincing and rarely allowed himself to be defeated. He had to admit, Chester was charming.

“I don’t think, Mikey, I know.” The smile was replaced with a smirk, and Chester finished, “you know you can’t resist me.”

His hand traveled down Mike’s chest and slipped right inside his boxers, Mike gasping at the sudden contact and Chester’s bold move, his expression fading from a smile to heavy-lidded desire in half a second. “God, Ches… I _can’t_ resist you. Come here.”

He pulled Chester close, the conversation tabled for the moment as he went to kiss Chester again. Mike felt Chester’s hand, squished between their bodies, stroking him lightly, and Chester pulled his lips away for a moment, looking at Mike with a glint in his eyes.

“Think room service will bring us coffee?”

“You’re not calling them until we’re finished with what you started earlier.” 

Mike flipped Chester onto his back and sank down into him as Chester wrapped both hands around Mike, holding him close as he went in to nibble Chester’s neck, and neither of them heard Mike’s phone vibrating from the pocket of his jeans on the floor.


	19. Jealousy

Brad could feel every glance Rob threw his way during breakfast, and he was starting to lose patience with the scrutiny. He knew he was being a crabby pain in the ass when it came to Mike and Chester, and if he was being completely honest with himself, he wasn’t entirely sure why it was bothering him so much, but he was afraid of what was unfolding in front of his eyes, and that fear had manifested itself in anger.

The initial shock he’d felt watching two of his closest friends- one of whom he’d known since junior high- stumble into a hotel room with hands all over and lips locked together had worn off the past two weeks, and what was left was something that felt strangely like jealousy, combined with the fear. When he took the time to really sit down and analyze things, he could see the inevitability of it all. Ever since Chester had arrived in their band, the dynamic between himself and Mike had shifted, ever so slightly at first, but more and more over the years, until it felt that Mike’s time, attention, and energies were consumed with Chester, and Brad felt on the outside more often than not. 

Mike and Chester existed around and within each other the way that the sun and moon were in the sky, circling, reflecting, simultaneously independent and codependent. Brad had observed their mannerisms for years, the way when one would cross their legs in an interview, the other would unconsciously follow within minutes. The way they both threw their heads back to laugh together. The seamless way their bodies moved together on stage, when one shifted left the other followed, then right, leaning, arms linked together, tucked up against each other, voices almost always flawlessly harmonizing. There was intimacy in both their movements and their music, and it was no longer something they worked on, hadn’t for years. It was just there, seeping out of every moment, obvious to everyone except apparently the four of their closest friends.

Brad was frustrated that he had not thought to warn Mike years ago where things were headed. He should have warned Mike that Chester would consume him, that there would come a time when Mike wouldn’t be able to be away from him, that he saw how susceptible to Chester’s magnetism Mike had become. Mike just couldn’t tell him no— he indulged his whims, he made things happen for Chester. It was obvious now, with the ability to look at the years behind them, that as each year passed, Mike’s reflection of Chester, the moon to his sun, had deepened to the point that they were almost one person. He should have warned him, what kind of friend was he, after all? _Mike and Chester._ Always, it was Mike and Chester. Brad didn’t know when the line had been crossed, when the emotional intimacy had crossed into physical intimacy, but he feared for Mike, his best friend, and what would happen if Mike thought that he and Chester were going to end up together. Brad just didn’t see Chester being as emotionally involved as Mike. Chester loved so many things, cared so deeply for everything, that Brad just didn’t think Mike was different from everything else in which Chester was invested. He feared that for Mike, Chester was the only thing, and no relationship that unbalanced could be healthy.

So when he’d gone to Mike to demand an end to their improprieties, he still had hope that things hadn’t progressed too far, that things were salvageable. However, the look on Mike’s face when he’d told him to end things with Chester told him everything he needed to know. It was too late. Everything seemed to be hanging in the balance as they set off on the next leg of the tour, everyone tiptoeing around the others, everyone knowing the Mike and Chester were… _together_ … and nobody knowing what to do about anything and nobody saying anything to anyone else. 

When he looked up from his plate he met Rob’s eyes, and where Brad was full of inner turmoil, Rob appeared to be completely at peace. Scowling, Brad finished off his tea and said, “I think I’ll head back up. Got a few things to catch up on before the meet and greet.”

He was annoyed when Rob excused himself as well and followed behind him, silently taking the elevator up and holding the door open for Brad as he stepped out. As they made their way down the hall, Rob asked, “you have a few minutes? I want to talk to you about something.”

Sighing, Brad glanced at Rob as he felt for his key card in his pocket. “Sure. Come on in.”

They entered Brad’s room, the subtly comforting scent of vanilla wafting through, Brad going straight to the window to look out at the morning sky while Rob settled into the armchair in the corner. He crossed one long leg over his knee and rested both palms on his thighs, his expression open and peaceful. He wasn’t there to argue. 

“What’s going on with you, Brad? You seem tense.”

Looking toward Rob, Brad started, “everyone is tense. It’s all this drama with Mike and Chester,” then he turned back to the window. He’d been stewing over the whole thing silently for two weeks, and now that he had an audience, the words were spilling out quickly. “What do you think is really going on there, Bourdie? We haven’t really talked since the morning we confronted them. I think they’re hiding something from us, an actual full out affair, maybe, and I just can’t imagine what they are thinking. Well, they probably aren’t thinking. Especially Mike. I’m worried about Mike. This is not like him at all.” There was a silence as Rob processed Brad’s thoughts, and Brad leaned his forehead on the glass. “I know I’ve been a dick. I just can’t believe they would do this. I can’t believe Chester! Mike, Mike has always been good, _incorruptible._ How did this happen right in front of us, how did we not stop it?”

“I don’t think there was any way to stop it, Brad.”

Brad turned away from the window slowly, confusion on his face. “Are you… are you saying… I’m right? Rob, oh my God… am I right?”

Rob shook his head, messy hair flopping across his forehead. “I don’t know anything for sure, but I know that there is something different between them. I spent an afternoon with them over the break, and there was just this… energy… I can’t explain it.” 

Brad walked over the the bed, dropping down on the comforter like the effort to stay upright was just too much. He stared at the ceiling, wishing he could make the entire situation go away. “Rob, what is going to happen? What can we do?” It was sinking in, the fear, the unknown territory stretching out in front of them. He wasn’t sure if it was better or worse to have confirmation from one of the other guys. 

To be completely out of control of something that could bring down their whole lives made Brad’s heart skip a beat in his chest. Everything felt fragile, their existence resting on a soap bubble, time running out before the bubble burst and everything fell apart. The implications of the situation, if Mike and Chester were having an actual affair, were far reaching. Brad couldn’t stop the swirling thoughts, couldn’t organize the chaos, couldn’t see an outcome that didn’t destroy Mike’s life, Chester’s life, all six of their lives. Everything between the six of them was so interlocked after almost twenty years together that the thought of a scandal was crushing to Brad. They had always prided themselves on their image, and here Mike and Chester were, ready to throw it all away. 

 

“There’s nothing we can do except support them, Brad. Whatever they choose to do. It’s not our choice to make.” Rob held up a hand as Brad sat up to interrupt. “It’s _not our choice._ If they want our advice, if they want our help, if they want an objective opinion, that’s what we’re here for. We’re brothers first, always. I think the open hostility needs to stop, though.” 

Sighing, Brad closed his eyes and ran a hand through his hair. “I know, I told you I’ve been a dick. Mike’s just… my oldest friend- other than you- and I just never thought he’d be so impulsive, so reckless. He’s putting everything at risk, not just his life but ours.”

“Well, it’s our responsibility to help this not blow up, Brad. It’s what we’ve always done. We owe them that much.” Brad sat up, eyeing Rob, considering. “What?”

“I… I think that I’m… struggling with it for two reasons. I’m scared as hell about what this could mean for us. I love what we do. I don’t want anything to change.”

“We have to be there for them, Brad. It can’t be easy. There’s so many factors at play. And I get what you’re saying about the band. I don’t want anything to change either. I think our best days are still ahead of us. I think the next leg of this tour will be the best one we’ve ever done. I think there is so much left for us to accomplish, and I’m not ready to settle down and not travel, not perform anymore. I don’t think Mike and Chester want that either, though, I can’t imagine either of them wanting to give up what we have. I don’t think that’s even a consideration.”

“It may not end up being our choice is what I’m saying. What will happen if this comes out? Can you imagine the tabloids?”

Rob scoffed. “Our fans don’t believe that garbage.”

“I know, but still… it wouldn’t be good.” 

“What else is on your mind? You said there were two reasons you’re having a hard time. What’s the second?”

Brad considered for a moment, then plunged ahead, “the other thing is… I think I’m jealous of Chester.” He took a deep breath. It sounded ridiculous. Mike had been right when he said nothing would have been possible without Chester. Brad remembered the days before Chester, how close they had come to breaking up, how painfully close he’d been to a nine to five office job and a normal life, how close he’d been to only pulling out his guitar on the occasional weekend. Chester had come along and changed everything, and while Brad was grateful, and he loved Chester, he still felt the loss of Mike’s full attention and it had eaten at him for years. “He’s the only person I’ve known that captivates Mike. You know how Mike is, it’s always about Chester. Make Chester happy. What he can do to lift Chester up, I just… I wish we were all as close as they are.”

At that, Rob raised an eyebrow. “Really? You want to snuggle up to Mike at night?” The pillow hit him square in the face as he chuckled, laughing out, “didn’t know you felt that way about him, Brad.”

“You know what I mean, damn! I just… I just wish someone took care of me the way Mike takes care of Chester.” Rob’s laughter continued as Brad realized his double entendre. “Never mind, damn it. You’ve got a dirty mind, Bourdie.” He shook his head. “It’s always the quiet ones.”

“Yeah,” Rob agreed, still laughing. “You gonna start being nicer? We’ve got five whole weeks on the road. I don’t want to play referee the entire time.”

Rolling his eyes, Brad nodded. “Yeah. I’ll give Mike a call, see how he’s feeling. Try to get him moving before this afternoon.”

Stretching as he stood, Rob smiled, “you gonna be okay? You gonna play nice?”

Reaching for his phone, Brad nodded. “Yeah. I can play nice. Thanks for calling me out… I can always count on you to keep me honest.”

“Anytime, man.” 

Rob let himself out as Brad pressed the call button. It rang, and rang, and went to voicemail. Brad frowned, hung up, and tried again. It rang through to voicemail again, and Brad tossed his phone down in irritation. He didn’t want to know what Mike and Chester were up to, but it seemed to him that a hangover probably wasn’t the issue. He buried his face in a pillow and tried to get the unwanted image of his two friends kissing out of his mind. There were just some things you couldn’t unsee.


	20. Mistakes

For Mike, the first three weeks of the tour passed quickly, days of travel, meeting fans, and performances with the guys giving way to late nights spent with only Chester, the two of them becoming more and more wrapped up in each other, increasingly more comfortable with their circumstances, concerningly less discreet as the cities changed. Neither of them were aware that the dynamic in the group had subtly changed, that the guys were quietly accepting of their immersion in each other, that the sexual jokes had waned, no longer funny to anyone but Joe since they really weren’t jokes any longer. Even though Mike and Chester didn’t know that the band knew about their affair, with the band in on their secret, it was easy to let things slip since nobody was commenting anymore.

A longer than necessary caress here, a lingering hug there, a thoughtless exclamation of affection on stage, a quick kiss in a dark corner after a show. All minor, all easily explained away, all ignored by the band and crew.

They were in Tampa when the small things turned into something much larger, and a big mistake was made.

When the tour began, the air had seemed lighter to Mike, and he attributed the improved atmosphere to his own jubilant mood, a product of lazy mornings with Chester and the excitement of the tour combining. They hadn’t changed much from the European tour setlist, so there was even a calmness draped over each night’s performance, none of the guys seeming to have any anxieties over whether anything would derail on stage. They had settled into this leg of the tour quickly, everything coming together better than Mike had planned. Everyone was considering it to be a huge success.

Tonight, as Chester bounced around the dressing room with his typical pre-show energy, Mike watched from each task he was checking off his own pre-show to-do list: checking his hair in the mirror, double knotting his shoes, double checking his in-ears, reviewing the set list, checking his hair again. Rob was in the corner, chopping out on a pad, scanning the room constantly with his eyes as he cycled through all forty rudiments, watching for signs of discontent from any of the band members. Everyone seemed relaxed, and even Brad had been making an effort to let things go the past few weeks, and had been fooling around with Dave and Joe before he asked Chester to run through their acoustic version of _Sharp Edges_ one more time.

Mike had to admit that even though his services weren’t required on this particular version of the song, he loved it, and he loved having the opportunity to stand in the blackness on stage and just soak in Chester’s voice. The complete sincerity in Chester’s tone made Mike’s heart swell with pride and longing and he looked forward to the little break he would have in the action tonight that would allow him those silent moments of appreciation. Finally content with the completion his pre-show routine, Mike sat down on the arm of the couch Rob was sitting on, and watched as Chester’s previously unrestrained buoyant energy focused into playing his part on the guitar.

They tweaked a few things until Brad was satisfied, and he smiled affectionately at Chester as he sat down his guitar. He was focused now, the energy alive under his skin, ready to get on stage and sing for 20,000 fans. Mike’s breath caught and held in his chest when the vocalist’s eyes met his, the radiance and excitement in Chester’s face so beautiful, and Mike couldn’t believe that when then the night was over, _he_ was the one who got to go home with Chester Bennington. _All these people who fantasize about what it would be like to touch him, kiss him, share his bed… and it’s me. He chose me. I’m the person who gets to hold him all night. I’m one lucky motherfucker._

Before he realized it, they were all being called to huddle, and the six friends linked their arms together, drawing each other close for a prayer led by Dave, Chester’s standard performance city pun, joyous laughter, appreciation for their blessings, and well wishes for each other’s success in the performance that was only minutes away. It was truly one of Mike’s favorite routines, and he usually found himself across the huddle from Chester, the infectious sparkle in the singer’s eyes focused on him. Everything felt magical and beautiful, yet so real, and Mike loved every moment of a performance evening, now even more so after his relationship with Chester had changed. 

They were all in sync from the start, the first part of the evening flying by, Mike soaking up the adoration on Chester’s face as he sang _Invisible_ , and then before he knew it, he found himself in the dark behind his keyboard, waiting for his part in _Crawling_ , listening to Brad’s guitar and Chester’s voice singing _One More Light_. It seemed especially poignant to Mike on this night, something about Brad’s playing really reaching into him, the delicacy and fragility tugging at his heart. He couldn’t quite pinpoint the change, but it gave Mike the sudden and distinct feeling that they all were on the edge of some catalyst, that something was lingering in the space between him and Chester, some magnetic pull that he couldn’t deny any longer. 

It was time for _Crawling_ , and he shook his head, trying to clear the thoughts as he started playing for Chester, watching him down in the crowd, crooning along to a song he used to scream, and Mike marveled at how musically mature Chester had become over the years. They had all grown up, they had all changed, but Chester had metamorphosed into a creature that Mike could never have imagined twenty years ago. The Chester of their twenties, dyed hair, lip rings, chains, and baggy clothes, the screaming, had given way to the Chester of their forties, confident and polished, powerful but fragile. If he squinted he could still see Chester the way he’d looked when they met, and he smiled at the memories that felt as though they were merely days ago. He closed his eyes and let Chester’s voice wash over him, floating in the simple beauty of every syllable uttered from his lover’s lips, and he felt an urgency to hold Chester in his arms, to kiss those lips, to capture this particular moment, more than he had ever felt while on stage. 

The feeling didn’t fade as they came to the close of the set, and it was at the end of _Bleed it Out_ , as they were about to leave the stage to prepare for the encore, that Mike kissed Chester. On the lips. In front of 20,000 people.

It wasn’t the brotherly peck on the hair or forehead Mike had been known to place in the past. He’d pulled Chester into him as they stood with their arms around each other, and he’d full out kissed him right on the lips. 

_Oh. Shit._ Mike’s brain still had enough sense in it to move his lips quickly from Chester’s after it realized the stupid position Mike had put them in, and to his credit, Chester continued to wave to the fans without missing a beat. 

The fans roared their approval as Mike internally panicked.

_I just kissed Chester. On stage. In front of people. What in the actual FUCK is wrong with me? Chester is going to kill me. Brad is going to kill me. There’s probably a thousand pictures of that kiss online already. Everyone will see it. Anna will see it._

_Anna._

It was the first time Mike had felt the full, crushing weight of the guilt he’d been ignoring as a result of his affair with Chester. He’d been doing a remarkable job compartmentalizing what they were doing, and it was easier on the road, away from his wife, away from his family. They were living in their own world, the fabulous world of a rockstar, where everyone catered to them and they weren’t responsible for anything except showing up and performing. It still didn’t feel like real life, even after all these years. With distance on their side and twenty-four hour access to each other, it was easy to slot their affair into the tour experience and ignore everything and everyone else. And Mike had just fucked it up.

As Chester blew kisses to the crowd, Mike left the stage, his knees a bit wobbly and his mind racing. _Did the guys see? What do I say? I have to get through the encore, maybe they didn’t see anything. What will I say? Oh. God._

He blindly reached for the towel someone was holding out, running it over his face and neck, wiping away the sweat before looking around at everyone else. The band was busy with their own pre-encore rituals, but it seemed to Mike that they were all carefully avoiding eye contact. His stomach was churning with adrenaline and fear when Chester appeared backstage, immediately walking over to Mike.

“What was that?” Chester hissed, his face exuding calm but his voice panicked. He glanced around at his bandmates, all of whom were running a towel over various body parts and drinking water. Someone placed a towel around Chester’s neck and a bottle in his hand as he stood in front of Mike, his eyes burning with questions that Mike couldn’t answer at that moment.

“Ches, I... “ 

Before Mike could apologize, Dave was in their space, eyes concerned. “Are you two going to make it through the encore?”

“What kind of question is that?” Mike shot out, instantly irritated. “Of course we’re good for the encore.”

“I’m asking Chester. Because Brad is pissed, and they’ve got _Sharp Edges_ first. If we need to change something, we need to make the call now,” Dave said, his eyes cutting to where Brad was standing, the fury evident on his face.

“I’m fine,” Brad said tightly, his eyes on Mike. 

Chester looked between Mike and Brad, then at Dave. “I’m good, too. We’ll be fine.”

Nobody said a word as they waited for the cue to go back on stage, Brad and Chester first, the others left in shadow. The silence was thick, Chester’s body language defiant, challenging. He kept looking at Mike with questions in his eyes, but both men knew right then not to open the conversation about what had happened on stage. Even Joe, who typically would have pressed the issue, held back and said nothing, and Mike felt that same precarious feeling from earlier, which he was now identifying as the feeling that he’d managed to change everything with one careless action.

Brad and Chester were given the go ahead, and as they made their way out to the end of the catwalk, Mike felt Dave’s hand on his arm. “They will be fine,” Dave whispered, gesturing toward their guitarist and vocalist. Mike nodded, never taking his eyes off the pair, listening as Chester strummed a quick chord and Brad cocked his head to the side at the tuning. A quick twist of one peg, another strum, and they started, Brad facing Chester, only inches from the singer.

For the first time ever, Mike felt anxiety wash over him as he watched Brad and Chester, the sweet and innocent way that Chester picked his part on the guitar and the intensity with which Brad stared at his face, wanting to run out to them and protect Chester, who looked so vulnerable with just a guitar in front of his shirtless body.

Brad was concentrating hard, watching Chester, trying to focus only on the music, but only able to think about Mike kissing Chester on stage. On _their_ stage, in front of thousands. He kept his eyes on Chester, trying to see what it was that made Mike so willing to throw away everything they’d worked for to be with the man in front of him. His eyebrows furrowed as he fixated on the singer, his frustration evident in his expression.

Chester closed his eyes as he sang, and Mike chanted to himself that it was going to be okay, everything would be okay, Brad would be okay even though he’d promised to break it off with Chester, the pictures would be explained away and everything would be okay because it just had to be, there was no other option, and--

“Breathe, Mike,” he heard Dave say, and Mike tried to calm the voices in his head before he walked back out on stage. 

The crowd was enamored of Chester’s acoustic performance, and he giggled breathlessly into the mic as Brad stormed back to the main stage, the other guys taking their places to round out the encore and finish the set. It blew by in a blur and was over, Mike only taking Chester’s hand in his to hold high over their heads at the end before Chester blew his last kiss into the crowd, and they were finished.

The moment of truth had come. Six short weeks after it had all begun, the secret was about to unravel. 

They exited the stage and with hesitant steps, made their way to the dressing room. The high from the show had dissolved instantly and both Mike and Chester felt as though they were walking to a courtroom where the verdict against them had already been reached, and they were the last to know. Chester reached out and took Mike’s hand, and met the fear in Mike’s eyes with fearful eyes of his own, and Mike wanted to run away at that moment and never look back. _I can’t face them. I can’t do this._

Chester squeezed his hand as they stepped inside, where Joe and Dave were toweling off again, and Brad was pacing back and forth, his irritation plain. He spun around as soon as Mike and Chester entered the room, pointing an accusing finger at Mike.

“You!” He yelled, clearly not trying to keep his voice down. “You _promised me_ you’d break it off, Mike. You promised!” 

Instantly Chester was on the defensive, glaring at Brad. “You had no rights to make demands, Delson! You crossed a line when you assumed there was something to end! Mike doesn’t owe you anything!”

Brad’s head looked like it was about to explode. “And you, you, Chester! Don’t stand there all self-righteous, as though you’ve done nothing wrong. We know, Chester, we know about you guys! You are both fucking terrible at keeping secrets!”

Dave and Joe looked at each other as calmness and superiority dropped over Chester like a cloak. “You know nothing. You can assume all you want. You’ve seen nothing.”

“Fuck, Chester, stop with the act! I know there’s more to your story than the kiss we all saw at the hotel and this kiss on stage! You guys haven’t exactly been subtle since we’ve been back on tour! And I know Mike! I’ve known him longer than you have! I _know_ when he’s lying.” Brad turned back to Mike, the anger receding a bit as he looked at the fear in his friend’s eyes. “You’re a terrible liar, Mike, you always have been.”

Mike covered his face with his towel, taking a deep breath before wiping it across his forehead and up into his hair, scrubbing at the still perfectly gelled strands. “Look… I… well… we... “ Mike couldn’t seem to string a sentence together. His mind was racing but nothing he thought of saying seemed like it would be enough to explain what was happening between him and Chester. He looked helplessly at Chester, who seemed to be weighing his options.

Looking first at Mike, then Brad, Chester bowed his head and stared at the floor. He didn’t know what to say either. 

“Do you guys understand what you’ve done? That kiss is probably all over the internet as we speak! How are you going to explain that one in your next interview, Chester? Oh, Mike accidently fell into my face on stage, it was really funny, nothing to worry about, hey, have you heard our new single?” Three weeks of restraint and ignoring the obvious had Brad ramped up, and just as Dave was about to intervene, the dressing room door opened again. 

Rob walked in, already in a fresh t-shirt, assessed the strained atmosphere, and looked right at Mike and Chester. “I think we all need to have a talk. We’re having a band meeting, at the hotel, thirty minutes after we get back. Everyone needs to shower and we’ll meet in my room.”

Despite the fact that in almost twenty years, Rob had never been the one to call a band meeting, nobody argued with him. The ride back to the hotel was the most silent ride Mike could ever remember, as he stared out the window, afraid to look at Chester or talk to Dave. For the first time since they’d set out on this tour, he was not looking forward to the next few hours.


	21. Damage Control

Mike had just wrapped a towel around his waist when Chester leaned into his bathroom, the scent of lavender flowing in with him. Their eyes met in the foggy mirror, and neither wore an expression that reassured the other. Mike sighed as he ran a hand through his damp hair. _I don’t have the first idea what to say right now. Chester is going to go on the defensive, but it seems like there’s no point in trying to hide this any longer. I’m such an idiot._ “Ches… I’m sorry. I don’t know what happened on stage, I can’t believe I fucked up so badly.”

Not breaking eye contact, Chester nodded. “Yeah… I think it’s safe to say the guys all know there’s more to us than we’ve told them so far.” He moved forward, slipping both hands around Mike’s waist and placing his chin on Mike’s shoulder. “What in the world made you do it?”

“Fuck, I don’t know. Something just felt… different tonight. It was like I couldn’t resist you, Ches. I just wasn’t thinking,” he sighed, then continued, “I guess we’re not waiting until after this leg of the tour to tell them anymore?” Even though he knew there was no hope of putting it off until later, the weary confirmation Chester gave him caused his stomach to drop. _I’m just not ready yet. I don’t think I can handle their reactions._ “I don’t know if I can do this, Chester,” Mike mumbled as he turned to face the vocalist, whose hand immediately started caressing his back. Mike’s face creased with worry, feeling suddenly self-conscious under Chester’s gaze as he realized Chester was fully dressed and he was wearing only a towel. It didn’t escape his notice that Chester had dropped his eyes to Mike’s torso, and he brought a hand up from Mike’s back, laying his palm against Mike’s chest where he imagined his heart would be, beating furiously with anxiety and Chester’s proximity. “I love you, Ches… I don’t know what’s about to happen, but I know that I love you. Promise me… promise me…” His voice drifted off, unable to finish his plea.

“I love you, too, you know. Mike… Mike. I promise you that this is not the end.” 

A touch of a smile graced Mike’s lips, and he said, “this is not the beginning.”

Chester laughed, wrapping his other hand around Mike’s neck and pulling him closer, “you’re such a dork, Shinoda. Don’t you sing our songs at me right now. This is serious.”

“I’m rapping, not singing,” Mike replied as Chester’s lips covered his and the smiles faded as the kiss grew soft and deep. It didn’t carry the unbridled passion of most of their kisses, it was simply tender and loving, consuming each other, their bodies pressed close together. When they broke apart, Mike rested his forehead on Chester’s shoulder and whispered, “I should get dressed. They’re all going to be in Rob’s room already.”

“Wait,” Chester breathed, moving his fingers softly over Mike’s collarbone. “I promise you, Mike Shinoda, I’m going to see this through with you. I told you there was no turning back, not now, not ever,” he repeated the words he’d promised the first night they’d made love, a night that was burned into both their memories. “We’re in this together, and everything that comes with it.”

Tears pricked the corners of Mike’s eyes and he nodded his head, his throat aching with emotion, and Chester led him out of the bathroom to get dressed and face the band.

**********

Twenty-nine minutes after the vans had arrived at the hotel, Mike and Chester stood in the doorway of Rob’s hotel room, fingers entwined, and looked around at their bandmates. Brad seemed to be more in control of himself than he’d been an hour earlier, and Mike was grateful. _Maybe Chester will be able to stay calm, too. I just want this to be over._

Brad had the curtains open and was staring out the window, looking over the water, both thumbs hooked over his pockets. Joe was sitting at the desk with his laptop closed, his iPhone plugged into an outlet; Rob in the armchair in the corner; Dave leaning against the wall. Chester led Mike to the bed and sat down on the edge, their hands in full view between them, both uncomfortable.

It was apparent there was not going to be any time wasted with small talk and anecdotes at this particular meeting when Rob began, “since this is an official band meeting, I’d like to remind everyone that the rules are in place until we close the meeting.” Mike felt his face flush red. _The rules are my job. He’s doing my job. Do they think I can’t do my job anymore?_ “No interrupting. No profanity.” Chester made a face. “Try to use ‘I’ statements. Oh… and this one is going in the vault, you guys. Nothing leaves this room unless the six of us agree.”

Everyone nodded their agreement, Mike bewildered at Rob’s take-charge attitude. He squeezed Chester’s hand where they were linked together between them on the bed, and steadied himself for the meeting. The truth. The guys could be trusted with the truth. He took his third deep breath since they’d been in the room, Joe looking over at him with exasperation as he exhaled rather loudly.

Nobody really knew what to say. Without Brad’s explosive accusations to start the conversation, there didn’t seem to be an easy entry point for the topic at hand. Chester started to chew on his bottom lip, a nervous habit he’d acquired in the days after he’d given up his lip ring, and Mike sucked his bottom lip into his mouth and ran his tongue along it without noticing he had done so, his subconscious thinking about that lip ring he’d never gotten to experience. The silence stretched thin until Dave cleared his throat, and all eyes turned to him and where he was leaning against the wall.

Quietly, and with sadness in his voice, Dave was the first one brave enough to ask, “why did you think you needed to hide this from us? We… all of us… tell each other everything. How long have your guys been… together?”

The periphery of Mike’s vision seemed to blur a bit as he looked at Dave, his mouth suddenly dry as he searched for the right words to make them understand. 

It was Chester who met the question head on, giving facts without elaborating. “We already told you, we’ve been sleeping in the same bed for years. More than ten years at this point.”

Mike gripped Chester’s hand harder. _He’s so calm, how is he staying so calm right now! I think I’m going to be sick!_ Chester didn’t even glance at him, he kept his eyes on Dave, gauging his reaction. 

Drawing in a long breath, Dave said, “ten? _Ten years?_ Fuck, you guys…”

“Profanity,” Joe called from the desk.

Both Chester and Dave glanced at Joe, and Dave continued, “you know that’s not what I’m asking. Not what _we’re_ wanting to know.” He stopped, thinking his way through the different ways to ask about their intimate relationship, trying to choose the one that was the least crude.

Leave it to Joe to pipe up at that moment. “Yeah, what Dave’s really trying to say is, we all want to know if you’re fucking.”

Cutting his eyes to Joe immediately, Dave said, “um, profanity?”

“That’s such a stupid rule anyway,” Chester complained.

Rob held up his hand. “We all agreed on these rules a long time ago. You not being able to express yourself without using some form of the word ‘fuck’ doesn’t make the rule stupid, Chester.”

“Profanity,” Joe mumbled under his breath. 

Laughter bubbled up out of Mike’s chest then, nervous and too loud, unable to hold it inside. Everyone but Brad looked at him, and Chester smiled, understanding his inappropriate reaction was due to the uncomfortable situation. Brad remained facing outside, perfectly still, his breathing not even audible.

“Fine. I think what we’d like to know,” Dave amended Joe’s question, “is whether or not there is a physical relationship we need to be aware of.” He looked painfully uncomfortable as he carefully pronounced each word, his eyes on Mike, watching the color drain from Mike’s cheeks as he heard the question and the giggles choked off, and he looked fearfully at Chester.

Chester looked at Mike, brown eyes soft, encouraging him to answer the question. 

“Well… yeah… yeah, there is,” Mike said, staring at the floor. 

A sharp exhale of breath from Brad at the window was the only sound in the room. The room became so still and quiet that Mike was sure he could hear himself blinking. Chester was biting his lip again, waiting anxiously for one of his bandmates to react to the news they had known they were going to hear anyway. Mike and Chester had become Mike _and_ Chester. 

“Damn,” Rob breathed out softly. 

There was something about hearing it said aloud that made Mike’s heart flutter in his chest. _They know. And nobody is freaking out. Yet._

“Well… what happens next, you guys? I mean… you aren’t going to just keep sneaking around are you? What about Anna? Talinda? Have you thought about what would happen when we found out what was going on?” Dave looked perplexed by the entire situation, but he was diligently trying to ask the right questions to gain understanding.

Mike shook his head, “we don’t know. We’ve talked about things,” he squeezed Chester’s hand and the vocalist smiled radiantly at him, “but we haven’t made any decisions yet. The only thing I know right now is I want to continue this tour. I hope you guys feel the same way. I feel like you have a right to be mad at us, but I hope it doesn’t affect the band. We just… you guys, this wouldn’t have happened if we weren’t… if we didn’t feel…”

“If we weren’t totally in love with each other,” Chester finished, unashamed.

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, smiling tentatively at Chester as Rob, Dave, and Joe stared at the couple, completely at a loss for words. Mike kept looking back over at Brad, who hadn’t moved from the window, hadn’t acknowledged the meeting was even taking place. _He’s never going to forgive me. After all we’ve been through, all the years we’ve known each other, he will never forgive me for not telling him I was in love with Chester. He can’t even look at me anymore._ He desperately wanted Brad to look at him so he could tell what he was thinking, how he felt about all this information. 

“We’re sorry that we lied to you before,” he heard Chester saying, “it was just so new then, and we hadn’t really talked about-”

“How long?”

Everyone looked at Brad, who had uttered his first words of the meeting.

“What?” Chester asked. “How long what?”

“Have you been sleeping together.” Brad was still facing out the window, but his arms were crossed over his chest as though he were trying to hug himself. “I want to know.”

“I don’t think that’s really necessary,” started Rob, but he was cut off by Brad whirling around and fixing him with narrowed eyes.

“I want to know. I want to know if this started before or after I spoke to Mike about ending things with Chester.”

“You what? When?” Dave said at the same time Mike cried out, “does it even matter?”

Brad looked directly at Mike now, who was twisting Chester’s fingers in his, staring up at Brad with a shell-shocked look on his face. “Yeah. It matters to me, Mike.” The unspoken statement hung in the air- _he wants to know if I lied to him that day at the house._

Mike closed his eyes, defeated, and whispered, “since London.”

Everyone looked from Brad to Mike, Mike’s chin dropping to his chest and Brad’s breathing heavy, the hurt spreading over his face as he confirmed that he’d been lied to, that they had _all_ been lied to-- and without saying another word, Brad walked out of the meeting.

Dave started toward the door, but Rob said, “give him a few minutes. We are all going to need some time with this. I think the only other thing we need to consider tonight is damage control.” He looked at Mike sternly. “I don’t know what you were thinking, kissing Chester like that on stage, but that can’t happen again. Looks like Joe and I will be trying to clean that up online all night.”

Joe nodded his head, his laptop already open. “There’s a thread on LPU about it already.”

Chester groaned, covering his eyes with his free hand. “What does it say?”

“Speculation about whether or not you guys are ‘tagging each together’,” Joe read, using air quotations. “There’s a picture, too.”

Chester dropped Mike’s hand and went to peer over Joe’s shoulder at the computer screen. He looked at the picture for a few moments, then turned to Mike and said, “you probably need to call Anna.”

That was enough for Mike. He suddenly felt like he was going to be sick. “I’ll be back in a minute, I’m not feeling great,” he said, rushing for the door, leaving Chester and Joe negotiating a response to the thread, and Rob and Dave staring at each other.

He had just slipped the keycard into the lock when a hand closed around his forearm. He looked up into Brad’s eyes, having not heard the guitarist sneak up beside him. 

“You lied to me, Mike,” Brad said, his voice low, the pain palpable.

“I need to go inside, I don’t feel well,” Mike responded, opening the door. “You coming?”

Brad followed him inside and waited as Mike went into the bathroom and turned on the water, and then he heard the unmistakeable sound of retching coming from the bathroom. Sighing, he sat down on the end of the bed to wait. It was just a few minutes later when Mike reappeared, a wet washcloth in his hand, wiping his face. He sat next to Brad on the bed, overwhelming exhaustion suddenly washing over him. 

“Feel any better?” asked Brad, only concern in his voice now. He reached out and covered Mike’s hand with his own. Mike could feel the callouses on his fingertips, so different from Chester’s smooth, gentle hands.

“Not really. I’m sorry, Brad. I just… I couldn’t tell you that day at the house, I didn’t want to disappoint you. I didn’t want you to think less of me. I… I was worried how you would take it, you know…” Mike desperately wanted his friend to understand, falling in love with Chester wasn’t a conscious choice, it wasn’t something he had pursued. Neither of them planned any of this, it had just happened so subtly, so naturally over the years, and Mike really wanted Brad to know he hadn’t asked for all these complications. It had just happened.

“I’ve watched you two for years. It’s not surprising, Mike. I just… I don’t know. I never thought you’d ever act on it… you never did years ago… I just thought… all of that had passed for you,” Brad finished quietly, pressing his fingers down though Mike’s.

“What are you talking about?” Mike questioned cautiously. His head was spinning from everything that had happened over the course of the evening, and now that he’d started it, he wasn’t sure he wanted to continue this line of conversation with Brad.

“You know,” Brad looked at Mike, then away, his cheeks flushing the faintest pink. “The reason you’re with Chester now, the reason you finally acted on how you felt… was it because I put us away all those years ago, because I ignored what I felt for you, because I was counting on all of it being fleeting, an experiment?”

The air went out of Mike’s lungs and he felt tense, ready to run. Memories of first kisses and moonlight and alcohol stolen from his parents house when they were only sixteen flooded his mind. “Brad… Jesus, Brad, that was so long ago. We were kids.” Mike looked warily at the guitarist, unwilling to pick at scars of wounds long ago healed, buried, and never spoken of… until now. “Is that what you’ve been so mad about this whole time? You’re _jealous_? 

“Regretful. I wish I’d had the balls to go after what I wanted twenty-five years ago.” He reached up and scratched under his chin, a thoughtful look on his face. “It probably wouldn’t have mattered,” he mused, “Chester would have come along, and you would have left me for him anyway. You and Chester were made for each other.”

Mike closed his eyes against another wave of nausea, wishing he were not having this conversation. It was worse than revealing his relationship with Chester in the band meeting. A lot worse. 

“It’s ok, Mike, stop worrying so much. I’m happy with my life, I love my kids, I love Elisa… you’re my brother, and yeah, I’m jealous of Chester, but you’ve always known that. He’s everything to you and has been for so long… it’s hard to be second in someone’s life when you used to be first.” 

Squeezing Brad’s fingers, Mike whispered, “I’ve never forgotten it, you know. It’s part of who we are, it’s woven in our history, Brad. I don’t want you to think you aren’t important to me.”

“I know,” Brad whispered back, his eyes shining. “We’re all grown up now, and things are different. But you’ll always be the one that got away, Shinoda.”

Mike nodded his head, understanding completely, but knowing it didn’t change anything about how he felt about Chester. _Chester’s my soulmate, as cheesy and stupid as that sounds, we were meant to be together, just like Brad said._

After a few poignant moments, Brad went on, “I want you to really, really think, Mike, about what you’re doing. I’ll support you, I hope you know that. There’s just so many things to consider. You can’t do shit like you did on stage tonight and expect to keep this inside the band. Eventually it’s all going to come out, and you can choose how you want that to happen and control it, or you can deny it and lose your ability to make it all unfold the way you want. This affects all of us, Mike, not just you and Chester.”

_It won’t be long until everyone knows, and he’s right, we can control the fallout if we are honest about everything. No more lies. No scandals._ “You’re right, Brad, we are going to have to come up with a plan. You feel like going back to the meeting?”

They looked at each other again, an unspoken agreement passing between them, again locking away their teenage indiscretions. “Yeah,” Brad said, standing and pulling Mike up with him, “let’s go use our fake logins and see what kind of damage control we can help the guys with tonight.”


	22. Aftermath

It had been a long night, the six bandmates spending hours online, under both their own logins and pseudonyms, deflecting speculation about Mike and Chester. As a team they had all taken the time to scour various sites and add in their comments, at times laughing while trying to sound like someone other than themselves, using vernacular in which they were not well versed.

_It doesn’t look so bad at this angle,_ Mike thought, looking at yet another picture of ‘The Kiss’ that had been posted up online. _God, I am such an idiot. Of course it looks bad. I really need to talk to Anna before she sees this._

Mike had tried to call her, and despite the time difference being in his favor, Anna still hadn’t answered the phone when he called. He tried not to worry about it, it wasn’t terribly unusual for her to not answer if one of the kids was giving her trouble at bedtime, or if it had been a particularly long day and she fell asleep on the couch watching tv. It was too exhausting to let his mind tick through the list of what ifs and fears, so he boxed it up in his mind and set it aside, focusing on the LPU thread he’d been assigned to diffuse. “Have you seen this picture of Mike and Chester kissing?!?!?!?!?” was the title of the thread, and there were more than five hundred views on the topic by 2 am. All Mike could offer was a fairly standard response of, “Mike and Chester have always been close, maybe Chester turned his head at the last minute and it was just an accident?” Mike rolled his eyes, thinking how stupid the whole ordeal was to begin with, and how ridiculous it was to have to try to defend himself without being able to _be_ himself. 

They’d finally wrapped it up before 3 am, everyone agreeing they’d done what they could. It was much later than any of them were accustomed to staying awake at this stage in their lives, and they were all dreading the travel to the next venue that was scheduled to start at 10 am that morning. It was shaping up to be a long day ahead on not enough sleep.

“Thanks for helping, you guys,” Mike offered as everyone but Rob made their way to their rooms, Rob having quickly shut the door to his room as soon as Joe scooted out of the way. Joe’s grunt and Dave’s soft “of course” were the answer, Brad simply nodded his head once, his eyes averted. _I guess it’s just going to take time. At least he helped. He’s not fighting us anymore. It will be okay. I’m just going to keep telling myself, it’s going to be okay._ Mike swiped the keycard and Chester followed him right into the room, and Mike realized that it no longer mattered if the guys saw them disappear into one room together every single night. They knew. It was a strange feeling to have his and Chester’s secret shared with the other guys, but Mike also felt a sense of relief… four less people he would have to break the news to eventually. 

He was asleep almost as soon as they lay down in the bed together, wordlessly, energy spent, Mike’s arms holding Chester close, his warm back snuggled against Mike’s front. 

**********

Later that morning, despite a general lack of sleep, everyone was cordial during their travel to West Palm Beach, staying out of the way when Chester’s exuberance ramped up as they neared the next hotel. He was his usual bouncy self as Jim took care of all the arrangements and handed the six their keys, looking at Mike as though it hadn’t been only five hours since they’d woken up together. While listening to the meet up instructions, Mike looked right at Chester and bit his bottom lip, and the glint in Chester’s eyes meant he’d read Mike’s signal loud and clear.

Before long they were in front of Mike’s room, and he slid the keycard into the door and held it open as Chester walked in, headed straight for the bed, and flopped face first into the pillows.

“Mmmmm, feels sooooo nice, Mikey,” he mumbled from inside the depths of the pillows.

Mike left his bag next to the vocalist’s and dropped down on top of Chester to his surprise, shoving his hands up under the pillow to grab the flamed wrists hiding underneath. “You’re right, it does feel nice.”

The sound of Chester’s giggle stirred butterflies in Mike’s stomach. “You’re fuckin’ heavy, Shinoda. Get off me!” 

Chester squirmed under Mike as he tickled Chester’s neck with his chin, the whiskers there causing the man underneath to shiver. Just a few seconds later, Mike rolled off to the side, and Chester turned on his side to face him, his eyes sparkling, and Mike could swear in that moment Chester looked twenty years younger. Mike traced a fingertip along his cheekbone, watching Chester’s eyes close and the smile on his lips, and he touched the tiny scar right beneath his bottom lip and remembered the lip ring, and how it had caused his heart to race back when they were first learning about each other. He thought about Brad, and the conversation they’d had last night, and how hard it had been to convince Brad to have Chester join the band. It had never occured to Mike that Brad might have been holding a torch for him all these years.

Their experimentation had never gone further than gentle kisses and a few timid strokes over clothing, and most of those had happened under the shield of nighttime and vodka, and even though Mike had wanted to pursue a relationship, Brad had shut him down. Sixteen year old Brad couldn’t wrap his head around not becoming what everyone else thought that he should, and being in a relationship with another male was not on the list of approved circumstances his family had in mind for a good Jewish boy. Of course, neither was Linkin Park. For Mike, the rejection of their blossoming relationship ended that chapter of experimentation as well, and he’d had a girlfriend and then met Anna, and when they clicked he figured she was the one. But then… then there was Chester. 

The slight shift Chester made toward him brought Mike out of his memories and into the present, where two empty hours before they had to meet up for tonight’s show had been bestowed upon them. Chester was giving him a look he knew all too well, his eyes bright with anticipation. “What is it, Ches?” he asked softly, curious what fun Chester had in mind this time. 

Chester reached between them and grabbed a handful of Mike’s shirt in his fist, pulling him close. “Let’s go take a shower, wash the travel off of us,” he said, licking his bottom lip Mike had just been touching. 

“Chester, we’ve hardly even been out in the world, we don’t need a shower,” Mike whined, not really wanting to move from the bed. 

“I’ll make it worth getting out of bed,” Chester murmured seductively into Mike’s ear, effectively reading Mike’s mind. “C’mon, it will be… warm… and… _wet_...”

The way Chester described the shower, the thought of warm water and wet Chester combined sounded pretty fucking amazing all of a sudden, and Mike nodded eagerly, letting himself be pulled out of bed and toward the bathroom, where Chester wasted no time stripping down to nothing, grinning at Mike. Stepping forward, Mike ran his finger tips down Chester’s torso before leaning into the shower and starting the water. He felt Chester’s hands slide around him from behind, unbuckling his belt and pushing his jeans to the ground as Mike lifted his t-shirt off and tossed it away. A heap of clothing was left in the middle of the bathroom floor as they stepped into the shower, Chester immediately hogging the water, still grinning at Mike as the shower stream rained over his head. Then Chester pulled him into the water with him, fusing their lips together as their hands traced lazy patterns on each other’s wet skin. After a few moments, Mike reached to squeeze body wash into his hands, then created bubble paths on Chester’s body, deftly massaging the muscles that rippled under the singer’s skin, brushing his fingers lightly along the places he knew would make Chester shudder in anticipation, enjoying the desire he saw blossoming in Chester’s face. He positioned Chester under the water and watched the bubbles drip down his lean, tattooed body, then swirl away. 

Mike leaned in for another kiss as Chester turned them so that he moved Mike into the water, feeling the warmth cascade over him. “My turn,” he said as he lathered up his hands and ran them down Mike’s arms, then over his chest before stepping closer to reach around his back, and Mike felt fingernails scrape across his wet skin. It was one of Mike’s kinks and Chester knew it, smiling devilishly as he dragged his nails along his back and sides, then leaned forward to flick his tongue across both nipples as Mike’s head fell back, savoring the contact.

It _was_ warm, and wet, and Mike was enjoying Chester’s hands on him long before Chester sank to his knees in front of him, taking Mike’s growing arousal into his mouth and eliciting a low moan from his throat. He leaned forward, placing his palms against the shower wall, shielding Chester’s face from the water, loving the warmth of Chester’s mouth and the warmth of the water on his back. Mike felt himself growing harder under Chester’s skilled movements, the lovely tension building as his legs began to feel weak, and Chester’s hand joined his mouth as Mike looked down to watch the action.

_Oh, God, he is so beautiful. Oh, fuck yes, I’m so close… I’m so close…_ Mike was lost in the ecstacy of Chester’s mouth and hands, feeling his whole body tightening, when Chester released him and looked up, water sliding in glittery droplets down his face, his eyes dark, and said, “let’s move this back to the bed.”

Mike groaned as he pulled Chester up, crushing his body close, kissing him and tasting himself and the water, and saying into Chester’s mouth, “I want you on your knees again.”

Smirking, Chester replied, “I’ll get back on my knees, but it won’t be to suck you off…”

It was all Mike could do to shut off the water and drape a towel over Chester’s outstretched arm before he hastily toweled himself off, feeling an intense need to get back to what they’d been doing. Chester was quick, out of the shower before Mike, leaving the bathroom with a glance over his shoulder and dropping his towel to reveal his naked backside, knowing Mike would follow.

Mike was close behind, leaving his wet towel in their wake, jumping onto the bed after the vocalist and pinning him down, kissing the damp skin of his neck before capturing his lips for a long kiss, and it wasn’t long before Mike was spreading lube on his fingers and Chester was writhing beneath him, panting and moaning as Mike stroked and probed and stretched him, eyes full of love and desire. With tender familiarity Mike encouraged Chester onto his knees, guiding his hands to the headboard, then leaning to kiss the ‘Linkin Park’ tattooed on his back before he steadied himself and pushed slowly up inside his lover, holding perfectly still once he was fully surrounded by Chester’s warmth, lowering his face into the curve of his neck and sighing. It was like coming home, the feeling of being together this way, and Mike couldn’t describe the emotions that always overtook him when he made love to Chester; there were no words to explain the intimacy their minds and bodies shared. Weaving his arm underneath Chester’s, he gripped the headboard as he closed his other hand around Chester’s length, stroking him slowly in time with the gentle thrusts his hips had started. 

It was lazy and slow, Mike feeling the sparks shoot through his veins with every sigh and groan Chester made; Mike kissing his shoulders and neck and breathing warm words into his ear; Mike feeling the quake of Chester’s body when he leaned back into him, resting his head on Mike’s shoulder and moaning his name as they came together, savoring each other, trembling as they fought to stay upright while riding out the waves of their passion. It was warm and comfortable as they sank down into the bed next to each other, Chester raining kisses on Mike’s face with both hands in his hair, contentment covering them both like a heavy blanket. 

**********

Everyone else seemed to have taken advantage of the two off hours to take a nap, judging by the lift in the mood of the band as they huddled together before the show. 

They had all shared their thoughts and well wishes, and the huddle was about to break, when Mike added, his tone flat and his eyes anxious, “I hope we don’t hear anything about last night’s… kiss… tonight.” 

A glance was passed around the band before Rob’s calm, reassuring eyes landed on Mike. “It will be fine, Mike. Just go out there and have a great show. You worry too much.”

Mike nodded as Joe added, “just try to keep your lips to yourself tonight, yeah?”

Chester laughed as Mike turned red, then redder as everyone began a relentless stream of lighthearted jabs his way. Finally the call came to prepare to enter the stage, and Mike stood cloaked in darkness as he heard the intro to _Roads Untraveled_ start. He smiled, thinking of the night he and Chester had started the lyrics to that song, falling asleep together, and that was also the night Chester said Mike kissed him in his sleep for the first time. Evidently, the intro had triggered the same memory for the vocalist, who slipped an arm around Mike’s waist and kissed him on the cheek, whispering, “I love you, you know,” before gliding away, ready to prance out on stage.

It wasn’t their best night, they all had to admit. Even the adrenaline that coursed through their bodies wasn’t enough to energize Chester’s tired voice, and Mike worried about him throughout the first half of the set as he heard the occasional flat note or strained inflection. He could tell Chester was frustrated with his voice that evening, and he cursed himself for not making sure the vocalist had gotten enough rest. Rest and water were the staples of Chester’s touring success, and Mike knew it. _It’s my fault. If I hadn’t been so stupid and kissed him last night he’d be doing better tonight. He’d have gotten enough rest. I wish I could make it better, he’s going to be so upset. He hates not giving his best performance._

There were bits of songs where the timing just didn’t come together the way it should have, and Mike could see that Brad was visibly frustrated again. _He just doesn’t know how to hide his emotions at all,_ Mike mused as the more mellow part of the set started. _I hope he doesn’t get mad at me again about all of this. Man, I’m ready for this night to end! Wow, I don’t think I’ve ever wanted to be done with a show this much._

It didn’t help that the crowd was chanting, “Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” at the end of the encore, and Mike felt embarrassment creep over his skin as Chester sweetly indulged the fans by pecking Mike on the cheek, then sending him off with a light tap on the ass to the fans delight. He left the stage in a daze while Chester gave one last bow, then threw his trademark kiss into the crowd. Their eyes met as they left the stage, but neither knew what to say to the other, or to the other guys. Clearly, ‘The Kiss’ was not going to just fade away, despite their efforts online. 

It was a relief to leave the venue, to leave the fans behind, even if the frustration level was high within the band. Nobody really spoke to each other while they all followed their post show rituals, even Chester was more subdued than normal. There was just something about the expression on his face when he looked at Mike, though, that made the emcee feel like he needed to find a way save things before the whole night fell into a wasteland of self-hate and regret. He could see that Chester needed reassurance, and the best way Mike could think of to provide that was to allow Chester to take some control that night. He smiled in anticipation of what Chester could do when he allowed himself to be a little submissive. As their physical relationship had developed, Mike had become the more dominant one, but there were definite moments when Chester was in charge, and there was always a definite boost in Chester’s self esteem after he’d had Mike at his mercy. It seemed like it should be that kind of night, in Mike’s opinion. _Maybe that will help… God, I hope that will help. But maybe sex isn’t the answer? I hope sex is the answer._

They were back at the hotel and in the elevator before Mike made clear that he was up for a different kind of intimacy that evening. “I can’t wait for you to get me upstairs,” he growled into Chester’s ear, and Chester latched onto his neck, sucking a bright pink wet spot onto the tender flesh. 

“Oh, yeah? Is my Mikey feeling naughty tonight?” Chester’s mood perked up considerably as he felt the undertone in Mike’s words, whispering sensually, “sounds like you want me to be in control tonight? Maybe you want me to tie you up again, hmmm?”

Groaning, Mike pulled Chester’s hips into him, savoring the feeling of their bodies connecting, laughing at himself for his voracious appetite when it came to the singer-- he couldn’t get enough of Chester, everything about him called to Mike’s consciousness. He remembered the night Chester had used the hotel pillowcases to tie his hands above his head, then teased him mercilessly before fucking him so good. It had been different and fun, and Mike had to admit the thought of being under Chester’s total control again was appealing. “Oh, yes, Ches… that was _so hot._ ”

Exiting the elevator, they almost ran down the hallway, laughing breathlessly, reaching for each other as they went, Chester pushing Mike into the door and kissing him hard as Mike slid the keycard and opened it, stumbling inside the way they’d been doing almost every night of the tour. “C’mon, Mikey,” he murmured, grabbing Mike’s hand and pulling him inside and toward the bed. 

Before the door could close behind them, Mike stopped short and stared, eyes focused on the bed, his face a mixture of disbelief and fear. 

“Hey, Mike.”

“Anna,” Mike breathed, dropping Chester’s hand like he’d suddenly and accidentally touched fire. He felt the desire inside him freeze instantly. “What?... Why?...” 

Chester took a step backwards but stayed close to MIke, his stance protective, his face an expressionless mask. Mike couldn’t bring himself to even look Chester’s way, he was paralysed by the shock of his wife sitting on the edge of the bed he’d made love to Chester in just hours earlier. All he could hear was static rushing through his head as he frantically searched his mind for and realized the reason she was in front of him so unexpectedly. _The pictures, she’s seen the pictures! And Jim, Jim let her in here, fuck! Fuck!_

“I came to see you, Mike. I… I think... “ Anna’s eyes flicked to Chester, standing protectively behind Mike’s shoulder, and back to Mike. “I think we need to talk.”

As Anna sat on the edge of the bed, looking at the couple with eyes swollen and red, Mike took a deep breath and looked around the room; the messy bedsheets, the bottle of lube still on the bed; damp towels next to the bed; his and Chester’s clothes in a pile in the bathroom floor; and realized there was no way out. The moment of truth had come.


	23. History

Mike couldn’t wrap his head around the fact that Anna was in front of him, in Florida, twenty-five hundred miles away from their home. He couldn’t process that she was sitting amidst the evidence of his infidelity. He didn’t know what to say as she looked at him, and he felt Chester behind him, and he didn’t want to start a fight with her but his brain went on the defensive when he couldn’t figure out anything else. “Anna, you can’t just… show up on tour! Without saying anything! Who’s with the kids?”

“The kids?” Anna looked incredulous. “Don’t you even ask me about the kids right now, it’s pretty clear to me that you haven’t been thinking about them while you’ve been gone.” Her eyes flicked back to Chester, who she noted at least had the decency to blush.

Mike, though, was enraged. “I tried to call you last night. Why didn’t you answer? Because you wanted to come out here and ambush me? I don’t have time for this right now, Anna! You shouldn’t be here!”

“ _Shouldn’t be here?!_ ” she spat, matching his anger. “Since when do I have to ask permission to surprise my husband? Was I supposed to let you know so you’d have enough time to clean up after yourself?” Anna stood up, taking a step toward Mike, her stance threatening though the emcee was both taller and heavier.

“And seriously, you want to talk about trying to call me? I couldn’t answer the phone last night, not when I’m being texted photos of you and Chester kissing on stage from everyone we know! Yeah, I’ve seen the pictures!” she exclaimed as the tears started to fall again. “How could you, Mike? Why? Why would you do this?” 

Mike ran a hand over his face, then rubbed the back of his neck before he turned and said to Chester, “I think you’d better go, Ches.” The look of concern on his face tugged at Mike’s heart, and even though he was terrified of facing Anna alone, he finished, “I’ll be fine.”

Nodding slowly, Chester looked around the room, then took a few steps toward the bed to pick up the bag he’d dropped there earlier in the day. Mike’s face flushed red as he realized just how obvious it was that he and Chester had been sharing the room earlier. Their eyes met as Chester made his way to the door, passing Mike wordlessly but with distress across his features. Mike nodded his head slightly and then Chester let himself out, and Mike was left alone with his wife.

They stared at each other for long moments, neither speaking, until Mike finally just dropped his head and whispered brokenly, “I’m sorry, Anna.”

She didn’t react at first, but Mike heard her erratic breathing and knew she was crying still. It was making his chest ache. “I just couldn’t believe it,” she started before having to catch her breath, the little sobs escaping between words. “The first picture, I was sure that it was just an accident, that maybe one of you had turned to say something to the other at the wrong moment, or something… but then I got a few more, different angles, and…” Mike looked up at her as she paused. “Mike. There’s no way. You can’t deny it. It was a kiss, on the lips, and it wasn’t an accident.” There was a longer pause. Then, “Who kissed who?”

All Mike could think about was how stupid he was as he sighed, “I kissed Chester.”

Anna looked away, biting her bottom lip, her eyes falling on the clothes just inside the bathroom door. She waved a hand in the direction of the pile and took a deep breath. “How long, Mike? How long has this been going on?”

It was an echo of Brad’s words the night before, the same notes of fear and betrayal laced into her tone. He closed his eyes as he felt the world closing in on him. The room suddenly felt small, hot, stuffy… _I can’t believe this is all going down this way. This is not how I wanted to tell her about us._ “Not very long.” Mike couldn’t bring himself to admit that, while the physical intimacy was relatively new, the emotional intimacy had been there for years. He didn’t know which would trigger a worse reaction.

Eyes still closed, he didn’t see the slap coming before Anna delivered it, crying out in anguish, “don’t lie to me, Michael! How long? Tell me, how long! You dream about him, you talk about him in your sleep, you’re always with him even when you’re home! I knew it, I knew it the last time you were home, I could tell from the look in your eyes when I asked you about him! You’re the worst liar, Mike! So tell me- _how long_?!” Anna grabbed his arms and he didn’t pull away, didn’t lift a hand to his face, didn’t open his eyes, didn’t defend himself. She shook him, and he still couldn’t bring himself to look at her. He was in shock that she’d hit him, but he also just… couldn’t... _look_ at her. He felt sick. He wanted to vomit again, and that would make twice in twenty-four hours, and he was not a vomiting sort of guy. 

_There’s no point in lying. She knows we’re sleeping together just from looking around the room. She never should have seen any of this. It’s too late, I’ll just make it worse if I lie. I’m a better man than that. Right? Right? I’m a good man. Ugh, am I, though? No, no you aren’t, you fucking asshole. You cheated on your wife and she flew out here to confront you to your face, because you’re a pathetic, lying, cheating asshole. Fuck you, Mike._

“Are you going to say something, Mike?” 

He turned his face away from her as though that was going to soften his words and confessed, “it’s been less than two months, Anna. We’ve only been… _together_ … for a few weeks.” _I can’t tell her the scope of this now, I can’t tell her we’ve been sharing a room, sharing a bed… for years… it will only hurt her more, right? She doesn’t need to know all the details._

Mike felt her release his arms and sink down to the floor at his feet, deep sobs coming from her chest, and he stood there, frozen, unable to move to comfort her, unsure if she would even want him to try . _This moment, this one right here-- this is the lowest I’ve ever felt. This is what I’ve done to the woman that loves me. The woman I love. The mother of my babies… my sweet babies, oh my God. I hate myself so much._

He wasn’t sure how long they stayed that way, Anna crying at his feet, his body still in the same place he’d stopped when he’d dropped Chester’s hand as they came in the door. He felt disconnected from himself, his body numb, even as his mind raced around. _Chester. What is Chester doing right now? If Anna knows, Talinda must know too. I wonder if he’s tried to call her. I wonder what she will say. Will he know what to say? This is such a mess…_ Mike tried to listen for sounds in the next room, but couldn’t tell if Chester had even gone inside.

Hesitantly, he said, “I wanted to talk to you, Anna, I did. I just… didn’t know what to say.” Mike wasn’t sure Anna heard him. She didn’t answer him, just sat on the floor, legs drawn into her chest, her face buried in her knees, and silence settled over them again. He waited for a while longer, then looked down at Anna, and offered her his hand, quietly asking, “why don’t you come sit on the bed with me?”

It seemed to take a great effort for Anna to place her hand in his, but she finally did, and Mike led her to the end of the bed where she sat down, looking up at him and commenting, “you should go take a shower.”

Mike hesitated, but he was uncomfortable having not properly cleaned up after the show, and still feeling sticky and sweaty, decided that a quick shower couldn’t hurt. Still, he asked, “are you sure?” and when Anna nodded, he grabbed a pair of clean boxers and a t-shirt from his bag and headed into the bathroom.

He kicked the pile of clothes earlier discarded into the corner, his eyes falling on Chester’s well-worn old white Ve’cel t-shirt, his heart fluttering as he thought of what they’d been doing in the shower a few hours before the show. Once they’d left LA for this part of the tour, he’d felt no shame up until the moment he saw Anna- now he felt like he was drowning in it. Emotionally, Mike was right back where he’d been when they were home for two weeks after being in Europe. Confused. Disgusted with himself. _A good man would have ended one relationship before he began another one. No, actually, a good man would never have gotten involved with his best friend. We are so stupid, thinking this could actually work. Anna doesn’t deserve this. I am the worst kind of person._ He made short work of the shower, taking care of the necessities quickly, drying off and brushing his teeth, staring at himself in the mirror. _God, I look old. Tired. Ashamed. When did that wrinkle show up on the bridge of my nose? Is that a gray hair in my beard?_ He leaned closer to the mirror, confirming that he did indeed have a gray hair peeking through his whiskers. _Damn. No wonder Chaz shaves everything off._

Mike pulled on his boxers and the thin cotton t-shirt, sliding his hands down the front of the shirt, smoothing it against his skin. Running a hand through his damp hair, he glanced around the bathroom and realized he was out of ways to avoid Anna, so he flipped the bathroom light off and stepped back into the hotel room.

The sheets had been stripped from the bed and tossed in the corner, the blanket pulled up to cover the mattress, and Anna was sitting in the armchair by the little desk, staring out the window into the darkness. Mike knew it was well past midnight, but there was no way their conversation was over. It was a good thing the next day was a travel day, he was going to be exhausted after two sleepless nights. Even if she was finished for the night, he knew he wouldn’t sleep well without Chester in his arms. _Ches… damn, this sucks so bad._

“Hey,” he called out to Anna cautiously, not wanting to startle her.

She didn’t turn her gaze from the window, didn’t even acknowledge that he was back in the room. Mike crept closer to her, stopping a few feet from where she was sitting. “Anna?”

“Do you remember when we met?” she asked faintly, her eyes far away as she watched the memory in her mind. “You took my hand, you gave me that _Xero_ tape, and I felt… I was so excited, Mike, the way you looked at me… I remember how nervous I was, how my stomach felt, how you smelled… what you were wearing… you were so gorgeous…” Anna stopped and looked at him, then continued, “you still are. You don’t look any different than when we met. Still the same smile… the same eyes I lost myself in… it was before Chester came along, Mike…” The mention of Chester’s name seemed to fill the air between them with something heavy. 

Shifting on his feet, Mike remembered what it had felt like to lead Anna around the party by hand that night, having already claimed her in his mind; remembered her long brown hair and shy smile; remembered slipping the _Xero_ tape in her hand with confidence, he was so sure it was his ticket to fame; remembered the way her eyes looked after he’d gotten the nerve to gently kiss her goodnight. He remembered how she’d followed him, working the tiny merch booths at their small shows, believing in him, in his band. He remembered how she’d welcomed Chester into the fold immediately, shrewdly recognizing the talent Mike had seen in him, confirming that Mike had made a wise choice… and here he and Chester were, twenty years later, betraying her trust in them, sneaking around behind her back, so very close to leaving everything they’d all sacrificed and worked for in ruins. 

“I’ve been here since the beginning. Before anyone even knew who Mike Shinoda and Chester Bennington were. You were just Mike… just mine... my artist.” Mike stepped forward, closing the space between them, and slid his fingers into her hair, Anna turning her cheek into his palm and closing her eyes. “You were mine, just mine, for two short years. And then… then there was Chester.”

Mike’s heart ached as he looked down at her, fearing that what she said was true, that he’d loved Chester from the very beginning, that even though he’d loved her too, it had never compared to the way he loved Chester, and she had known. She’d known the whole time. He said nothing, the emotion closing around his throat, the sorrow pricking tears in his eyes. _I’m sorry, Anna, truly, I am. But you won’t believe me when I say it. I’m so, so sorry._

“I thought… I thought if I… was… the best wife I could be… if I supported you… never complained about the tours… the hours in the studio… Mike, I thought we’d always be together. I love you, Mike… are you… are you leaving me? For him?”

Their shared history and memories caused Mike to hesitate just long enough for a spark of hope to glow deep in Anna’s eyes. She took a deep breath, and grabbed both of Mike’s hands, holding them to her chest. “If there’s any chance, any at all, please let me try. We can make it work, we’ve been through so much… and the kids… I want the opportunity to try.” She took a deep breath and continued, “I’m hurt, Mike, and I’m angry, but I can’t just turn my back on twenty years. Let me stay with you until the end of this part of the tour, then we can go back to LA together and figure things out.” 

He knew he should have said no. He knew that giving his wife false hope was almost worse than having the affair to begin with. He knew he should have ended it in a way that she’d know for certain it was over, for he knew that he was going to end up with Chester, there was no way he could turn his back on what they had. But looking into her eyes, the eyes of a woman who had given so much of herself over the years, loved him, supported him, been there through all of the trials of the early years and the fantastic successes of the later years, he couldn’t make himself say the words. Instead, he whispered, “ok, Anna. Stay here with me,” as he gently pulled her face to rest against his stomach, feeling her tears through his shirt, feeling the weight of his inability to fully commit to leaving his wife settle over his shoulders, feeling as though he’d just made another critical error.


	24. Confusion

Mike couldn’t sleep. 

It wasn’t an unusual problem for him to have, but this night, when he closed his eyes, the image of Chester holding onto the headboard was there, taunting him, reminding him he was laying in the very bed in which he’d been with Chester. Flashes of Chester’s neck, his head thrown back against his own shoulder, his lips on Chester’s pulse and his arm around Chester’s waist, his hand bringing Chester to climax…

Mike opened his eyes, staring out into the blackness. _This is ridiculous,_ he thought, reaching for his phone carefully, hoping not to wake Anna. 

3:32 AM _You awake?_

There was a long wait, Mike thumbing through Twitter, before the answer came.

4:11 AM _I am now. Everything ok?_

4:11 AM _Unlock your door_

Gingerly Mike rose from the bed, holding his breath and glancing at Anna before making his way to the connecting door, carefully unlocking his side, waiting to hear the same from the other side. There was a soft click, and then Chester opened the door a crack, peering at Mike with sleepy eyes. Mike pressed his palm against the door with just enough force to indicate that he wanted to come in, and Chester relented, moving aside as the door swung his way and Mike slid inside the room. With another soft click he closed the door behind him, immediately feeling Chester’s arms slide around him, and Mike turned and caught Chester’s face in both hands, landing a gentle, restrained kiss on the other man’s waiting mouth. 

“Mikey… is everything ok?” Chester tried again, pressing his palms to Mike’s back and squeezing him closer. He was warm and sturdy and comforting, and Chester couldn’t get close enough to him, wondering how things had gone with Anna.

“I don’t know Ches... “ Mike felt the tears starting to slip down his cheeks, “have you talked to Talinda?”

Reluctantly, Chester let go of Mike’s waist, walked toward the bed and switched on the lamp, peering at Mike in the dim light. “Yeah, we talked tonight. I called her after I left your room. Figured if Anna was just showing up here I probably needed to talk to T… definitely don’t want her showing up here too.”

Flicking away the drops that had made their way down to his chin, trying to be composed, Mike calmed his breathing and asked, “did she know?”

“Yeah… she knew.” Chester sat on the edge of the bed, looking at Mike with an expressionless face. Emotionless voice. Waiting… 

Mike wasn’t sure if he should go to Chester or not, what he should do with his hands, where to look. “What did she say?” he finally asked, afraid to hear the answer. 

Something about the look on Mike’s face made Chester ask, “I think I want to hear what happened with you and Anna, first.” Eyes still cautious, he peered at Mike from behind his glasses, watching all of the emotions slide over Mike’s face; he’d never had a good poker face. 

Fear. Anger. Disgust. Love. Need. Desperation. And finally, resignation. “I asked her to stay, Ches. I… told her that I was willing to try to fix what I’ve done. We fought at first, but then when we started really talking… reminiscing… I thought that maybe I haven’t tried hard enough. So I told her I’d try… to make it work between us.” His face crumpled as he heard his words out loud, words he felt were the beginning of the end of his relationship with Chester, and Mike wanted to disappear, for the floor to open up and swallow him at that precise moment. _I think I’ve made a huge mistake._

A hint of anger shined in Chester’s eyes before it was replaced with what appeared to be cool detachment. “But... that’s not what you want, Mike.” 

“It’s what I’m supposed to want, though. I’m supposed to want to be faithful to my marriage.” Mike’s voice faltered, though he was trying to sound convincing. 

Chester knew Mike well, and he knew that what he’d just uttered was complete bullshit, and losing his temper a bit he shot back, “don’t you think it’s a little late for that? Faithfulness? For God’s sake, Mike, you’ve fucked me every day since we left LA, sometimes twice! Do you really think that being faithful is what you want?” Chester hissed, trying not to yell at the emcee.

Mike’s eyebrows drew together, zeroing in and fixating on one of the words Chester had chosen. “I told you, Ches, it’s not fucking. It’s not just sex. I… I love you, Chester, I know I’m screwing everything up right now but I swear to you-”

“Stop, Mike,” Chester cut him off coldly, holding up a hand and turning his face away, “you’re making a fool of yourself. Why don’t you just crawl back to your _wife_ now. Oh, wait, that’s exactly what you’ve already done.” 

Pain pricked at Mike’s heart as he looked at Chester, thinking how he wanted to go to him and take his hand, parade him around and show the world that _Chester Bennington_ belonged to him… how he had thought that maybe, magically, everything would work out for them… and how now, with his acceptance of Anna staying with him, he’d agreed to try to push what he felt for Chester aside, to deny it the way he’d been denying it for years, to work on a marriage he wasn’t entirely sure that he wanted to be in for the right reasons, rather than sentimentality and history and a sense of what others expected from him. It was all overwhelming and despairing. 

“I’m supposed to want to try to make things right. She’s done nothing wrong. She… I… Chester, I couldn’t do it, I couldn’t just end it, and I’m sorry! I know I’ve fucked up!” His voice was low but impassioned, conscious of his sleeping wife next door, determined to see this conversation through without waking her. Mike couldn’t stand the thought of Chester dismissing him, turning him away without understanding where he was coming from. Wasn’t he doing the right thing, giving Anna the chance to make things right? _Wait. That’s not what this is about. She doesn’t need to do anything. This is all me. I’m the one that fucked up. I’m the one that has to fix things. How am I supposed to do that when all I want is Chester?_ He stopped, looking at Chester, totally confused. 

“Do you expect me to get angry at you, Mike? Do you want me to beg you to stay? Because I’m not going to do that. I made my choice, Mike. I made my choice when I walked into your room in Birmingham and told you yes. I committed to the idea of us, and I can’t say that you’ve done the same. In fact, I know you haven’t. When the guys confronted us at breakfast, you were mad at me for giving them bits of the truth. When I wanted to tell the band we were together, you didn’t. Now you’re standing here in my room, telling me you’ve asked Anna to stay, and it just _screams_ to me that you were never in this all the way. This was a big decision we made, one we made together, that could potentially end our careers and _I was okay with that, Mike._ I’m willing to give up everything to be with you, and you aren’t willing to do the same for me. You’re a coward, Mike.”

Mike felt the blood drain down to his feet, staring at Chester in shock. _He’s right. I’m a fucking coward. But I know that I need to do this. I have to know I’m doing the right thing, one hundred percent._ “You’re right. I’m scared. This is huge, Chester. I have to know, I have to be certain, for my kids’ sake, I have to know I’m doing the right thing, that I gave her a chance.”

Chester waved his hand in the air again, “you should have done that before we even began, Mike. You should have known whether or not you were in all the way.” His facade was starting to crack, his hurt feelings and a bit of desperation starting to show through the indifferent exterior. “All those things you said, every time you said you loved me, that you couldn’t imagine going on with your life without me… did you mean any of it?” 

Mike closed his eyes, so afraid of saying the wrong thing. “Of course I mean it, Chester. I don’t want this life without you in it.”

Bitterly, Chester finished what he imagined to be Mike’s unspoken words-- “you just don’t want anyone to know. You thought you could have your marriage and me, too.”

Shaking his head, Mike choked out, “that’s not it! Don’t say things like that, Ches… God, I am so confused right now. What I want and what I should want, what I should do… I feel like it’s not going to matter what I do, I’m going to hurt someone!” He looked at Chester, his eyes pleading, taking a step in the vocalist’s direction.

Chester made no move toward Mike, he was still stunned at the turn of events and the betrayal he felt. “Do you really think you’re going to work it out with her, Mike? Do you really think you can go back to the way things were between us? Always wanting something just out of reach?” Without breaking eye contact, Chester asked, “is that really what you want, Mike?”

Mike made a move to reach for Chester, but he turned away and stalked to the window, his back to Mike. “I think you should go, Mike,” he stated flatly, echoing Mike’s words from the night before, when he had asked Chester to leave his room for the first time ever. 

Taking one more step, Mike faltered, his eyes blinded by tears as he stopped, and gasped out, “Ches, please… I need you to understand why I have to try.”

Softly, Chester put an end to their conversation. “Twenty years, Mike. Yeah, you’ve been with her twenty years, but you’ve loved me the whole time. And here I thought you’d finally matured enough to not care what anyone else thought about you being _gay_ or _bisexual_ or whatever. Turns out, you’re just as scared now as you were twenty years ago. I can’t believe I let this happen. I should have known, since we’ve gone so long the way we have, that you would never be able to leave her and commit to me. I never should have said yes to you, Mike.”

Chester turned and their eyes met, and he watched the tears freely streaming down Mike’s face, then said again, “I think you should go.”

Hesitating, Mike’s eyes pleaded with Chester, waiting for him to say something to make it better, to undo the mess he’d made, but Chester stood his ground, unwilling to give even a little. When nothing was said, Mike dropped his eyes to the floor and breathed out, “ok. Ok, Ches.” 

Chester watched as Mike disappeared back through the connecting door, and listened to the soft click of the lock on the other side, and he could swear, he heard his heart breaking. 

**********

Mike sat in his bathroom floor, his arms around himself, sobbing silently into Chester’s discarded shirt, his mind racing. _I have to do this, I have to try with her. I will never forgive myself if I don’t. I can’t just walk away. He’s never going to forgive me. We never should have given in, never should have tried this. I’m doing the right thing, aren’t I? I promised I would love her forever, that I would be faithful, that I would honor my family. After everything we’ve been through, I owe it to her. Chester, Chester, I’m so sorry._ He breathed in Chester’s scent from the shirt, his heart aching, his mind and body so very tired, drowning in the despair he felt in every cell of his body. 

When the tears finally stopped and he felt hollow, dead inside, he stood, trembling, and washed his face, catching his eyes in the mirror as he toweled off. _I look like shit. And I brought it all on myself._

Creeping back to the bed where Anna was sleeping, Mike stood next to her for a long time, watching her face in troubled sleep, a furrow between her eyebrows. She was beautiful, and he loved her, and they shared three kids and years together. _I owe both of us better than what I’ve been doing behind her back the last two months. I can do this. I am really going to try, I’m going to be attentive, I’m going to work on this. I have to._

He crawled into bed next to her, hesitating before putting an arm around her waist and drawing her to his chest, refusing thoughts of Chester as he finally fell asleep, completely and utterly exhausted.

**********

Chester sat on the end of the bed in his room, trying to remember how long it had been since he had slept in a hotel room alone. It didn’t matter, he had a feeling he’d be sleeping alone for the rest of the tour. His stomach hurt. The confrontation with Mike, the conversation with Talinda, the stress of the past twenty-four hours felt like too much. He stood up and walked to his suitcase, taking out sleeping pills, considering the small bottle in his hand. It had been a long time since he’d needed one. He glanced at the mini bar in the room, wondering why they always stayed in places with minibars when he was a fucking alcoholic. It didn’t matter when he was with Mike. He didn’t want to drink when they were together, but now they weren’t together, so did it matter? 

He twisted open the shot of rum and looked at it, telling it, “I told Talinda I wanted to be with you, Mike. And now look at what you’ve done.” The rum didn’t talk back. Chester didn’t expect it to, but he was disappointed anyway. He sighed, walked to the bathroom, and poured the bottle down the sink. “Drinking you won’t solve anything. Drinking you won’t make Mike come back. Drinking you won’t change what I want or what I said to Talinda.” Tossing the bottle in the trash, he went back to the room and sat down at the desk. Instead of drinking, he wrote lyrics. Mike had chosen Anna, but Chester wasn’t going back to Talinda, not when he felt that there was a chance Mike would change his mind... no matter how long it took.


	25. Fix this.

“That’s _three shows_ in a row!” Brad exclaimed as he stormed off stage, angrily throwing his guitar in the general direction of the tech, stomping toward the dressing room with undisguised frustration. “ _Fuck Texas!_ "

Rob ran a tired hand over his face, about to go after Brad, when Mike ran past him, clearly in pursuit of the guitarist. His tall shoulders slumped, the unease in his stomach churning, as he watched Mike catch up and grab Brad’s elbow, only for the guitarist to turn and shove Mike away with a hand to the chest. He could see the thought of pushing back occured to the emcee before he simply held up both hands and took a step back, saying something Rob couldn’t quite hear. Their words grew clearer as Rob got closer to the pair.

“... know why, I’m trying, Brad, _Jesus_ , cut me some slack!”

“You’re out there fucking up lyrics three shows in a row! What the _fuck_ are we supposed to do while you sit around and cry over Chester, let you fucking ruin everything?”

Rob saw Joe turn warily away from his section of the wardrobe, slipping on a fresh shirt over his head while the argument continued.

“I’m sorry! I never meant for it to get like this! It’s not like I’m fucking it up on purpose!” Mike exclaimed, pulling his sweaty shirt off and wiping his face with the only dry corner before reaching for a towel. 

“No, you had no idea what you were doing! I tried to stop you Mike, I told you this would happen! Why don’t you ever listen to me?”

Mike didn’t know what to say. He narrowed his eyes at Brad, annoyed, wishing that Brad understood how terrible he felt, wishing he were offering words of comfort instead of coming at him with “I told you so.” The air crackled between them, the showdown apparent in their eyes, as Chester came into the dressing room, followed by Dave. 

Chester’s eyes raked over Mike’s bare chest hungrily before he looked up and caught Mike’s eyes, both men blushing as desire passed over them simultaneously, before Chester turned away, covering his face with a towel. 

The air felt awkward, Brad and Mike’s argument hanging in the air over the thick sexual tension between Mike and Chester, and everyone busied themselves with their post-show rituals instead of confronting the problem at hand-- Mike’s inability to concentrate on the set. Or rather, Mike’s ability to concentrate on anything.

The morning of Mike and Chester’s “break-up”- which was always referred to by the other four band members in air quotations- Mike had been shut away in his own thoughts, refusing to acknowledge anyone. Rob had been selected to probe for information with gentle questions, and had reported back after some time that not only had Anna arrived in Florida to confront Mike, he had stupidly grovelled back to her, and Chester had broken up with him, much to everyone’s surprise. The remainder of that day, consumed in travel to Texas, had passed without Mike and Chester saying a word to each other, Chester indifferent, Mike’s silent eyes watching every move the vocalist made.

Each of the three shows after Anna arrived were a train wreck, the chemistry off between the two frontmen, Mike distracted and making lyrical mistakes each night, sometimes so badly he affected the timing between the instrumentalists. Brad was particularly frustrated with Mike’s lack of professionalism and had no problem letting the emcee know he was mad. Tonight he’d thrown his hands into the air on stage after the encore, after Mike dropped an entire verse of _Bleed It Out_ , leaving Brad to cover the silence with an improvised guitar solo. Chester had managed to pull it back together to end strong, but Brad was still mad, finished with the drama between his two friends. He blamed Mike for not listening to him back in LA, the day he’d told Mike to end his relationship with Chester. In Brad’s mind, it all would have been easier if Mike had been the one to end things, to come to his senses, to stop the physical relationship before it consumed him. He knew Mike, he knew how single minded and determined he could get about things, and Chester had become an obsession. Mike didn’t know how to deal with the fact that the object of his obsession had essentially pushed him away.

Chester seemed to be coping better than Mike, and a lot better than the band had expected. Not only had he been the one to end things, to tell Mike it was over, that he wouldn’t be kept waiting for Mike to make up his mind, the rest of the band found out he’d told Talinda they were through as well. The last time Chester’s relationships had crumbled around him, he’d nearly died before ending up in rehab. Dave and Joe were keeping a wary eye on Chester, but he’d kept himself occupied in card games with the guys, lyric writing, and working out. It was with relief that Dave agreed to hit the gym with Chester each morning, grateful to see that Chester was clean and sober every time they met up. Everyone had been treading lightly, the feeling hanging overhead that everything would come crashing down if they even breathed too loud... until Brad blew up on stage.

Now, the six band members stood in the dressing room, each afraid to be the first to speak, the weight of what had happened between Mike and Chester days ago heavy on all their minds. 

Surprising everyone, Joe cut to the heart of the matter and said bluntly, “you guys can’t keep on this way,” gesturing to Mike and Chester. “It’s affecting the band negatively. The fans have noticed. The media have noticed. You’re going to have to make up or fake it better. This can’t continue.”

Mike looked helplessly at Chester, who had sprawled across the couch, guzzling a bottle of water with gusto, his body still glistening with sweat. He didn’t know what to say to make things better. He didn’t know how to tell Chester that he knew he’d made a huge mistake, that he knew he needed to admit to Anna that he was in love with Chester, that he knew he was fucking everything up but that he needed help to bring it back right. 

Draining the bottle, Chester looked around the faces of his bandmates, and simply stated, “I’m fine, you guys. It’s Shinoda here that can’t remember shit.” His eyes drifted back to Mike, starting at his feet and dragging up the emcee’s body, settling on Mike’s face with a smirk, challenging Mike to contradict what he had just said. 

Mike was furious, knowing that Chester was correct, embarrassed to be called out in front of his brothers, frustrated with the way Chester had mind-fucked him from head to toe while speaking _about_ him instead of _to_ him. He grabbed a t-shirt from the rack and pulled it on swiftly, hiding his body from Chester, feeling slightly more in control of himself now that he was covered. He heard Joe speaking again.

“We’ve got five more shows on this leg, then you guys can go home and figure your shit out. But until then, you’re going to have to try harder. It’s not our fault you decided to start fucking each other with zero regard for anyone else.” 

Silence fell in the room again, Chester staring Mike down, Mike looking anywhere but Chester, the rest of the guys glancing awkwardly at each other. Finally, Mike said tightly, “can I have a minute alone with Chester?”

Before anyone could respond, Chester challenged, “just say what you want to say, Mike. We don’t have any secrets anymore.” Mike heard the unspoken part of that sentence loud and clear: _you kissed me in front of twenty thousand fans, you outed our secret, and look at what has happened._

The anger and uncertainty were all over Mike’s face as he considered Chester’s words, and he opened his mouth to speak again when Rob intervened.

“Guys. Let’s give them a minute,” he said, nodding his head toward the door. Brad looked like he was about to argue, but thought better of it and stomped toward the door, Dave and Joe behind him. With his hand on the door handle, Rob turned to Mike and said, “you’ve got five minutes and we’re coming back in, so use them wisely.” He closed the door behind him, leaving the pair alone for the first time in four days. 

“Make it quick, Shinoda, we have a flight to Oklahoma to catch early tomorrow, and I’m tired. I’m not sleeping well.” As soon as he spoke the last words, Chester wanted to shove them back inside his head. He didn’t want Mike to know he was suffering, too. He didn’t want anyone to know how deeply he was hurting, he knew it would cause them all to hover and worry, and he just wanted some space right now.

“Ches…” Mike started, stepping toward the vocalist and stopping an arm’s length away. “I… miss you. I’m not sleeping well either. It’s killing me that you won’t even talk to me. Do you even know how long it’s been since we went four days without talking? I’m so fucking sorry, Chester, I don’t know what I was thinking with Anna the other night. I know I was wrong, I… I don’t know how to fix this… Chester,” Mike reached for Chester’s hand, and waited, his palm turned up, beckoning for Chester to place his hand in Mike’s, “Ches, please, don’t shut me out. I’m an idiot, and I’m sorry I’m hurting you. I was scared the other night and I made a bad decision, a terrible mistake. I swear to you, I’m going to tell her it’s over.”

“When?” Chester asked quietly. “It doesn’t look like you have any intention of doing it soon.” He ignored the outstretched hand in front of him, the intensity of his gaze cutting holes in Mike’s heart. 

Mike’s eyes skipped guiltily away from Chester’s, and the hand he’d been holding out moved to rub the back of his neck. “I was thinking I’d talk to her, really talk to her, when we got back to LA.” Chester snorted in disbelief, and Mike continued, “I think I’d just feel better if we were home, in a familiar setting, where she has people she can talk to. It’s going to be hard on her, Ches, I just want her to have someone to be with when she’s upset. I can’t put her back on a plane alone with her heart broken, it’s just… too cruel.”

“No, what you’re doing is cruel, it’s wrong, Mike,” Chester said flatly, looking up into Mike’s sad, dark eyes, irritated with the other man and his sudden weakness. “You shouldn’t have her here if you don’t have any intention of trying to make it work. I didn’t even tell you the other night, I was so mad at you, so fucking hurt that you’d just go crawling back to Anna the way you did… I didn’t tell you…” Chester took a deep breath and watched the fear crawl over Mike’s features as he dreaded whatever bomb Chester was about to drop on him. “I told Talinda I thought we should separate.”

Mike felt the world tilt around him as he heard Chester’s words. Suddenly his knees felt wobbly, and he stumbled the last steps to the couch Chester was sitting on, dropping onto the surface as Chester scooted out of the way. “You… what?” _Did he just say what I thought he said?_ Mike’s head was spinning.

“I came clean, Mike. I told her I was in love with you. I told her you were in love with me and it wasn’t fair to her what we’ve been doing. I made up my mind, Mike, I was going to be with you. And then for you to deny it? Well… I have to say I expected more from you. I always thought you were a stand-up guy, Mike. I thought you’d do the right thing, even if it was hard. I thought _this_ ” he pointed a finger first at himself, then at Mike, “was what you wanted. I thought you were going to tell Anna the same thing.”

There was silence as Mike tried to come to grips with just how huge his mistake had been. He’d had no idea Chester had been so forthright with his wife, and it made Mike feel incredibly pathetic. _Why couldn’t I have the guts to tell the truth like Chester? He believed in me and I’ve let him down, and he’s given up his marriage for me and I’m over here dragging my heels. I have really fucked everything up so much._ “If you’d known what an idiot I was going to be… would it have changed what you said to Talinda?” Mike managed to ask, his voice impossibly small and tired.

Chester reached over and took his hand, finally, and looked him straight in the eyes. “Not at all.”

**********

“I thought you were dealing with all this better,” Rob said to Brad as he leaned against the wall outside the dressing room. Rob pressed his left thumb down the tendons of his right forearm, feeling the burn from the performance, wishing he had time to get a massage once they landed in Oklahoma City tomorrow. He looked at Brad, who no longer looked angry, just miserable. 

Brad sighed, leaning his head back against the same wall. “I was doing better until Mike screwed up again and told Anna to stay with him. Fuck, Rob, we all know he’s not going back to her. I don’t blame Chester for being mad, but when it starts affecting the live show… I mean, it’s exactly what we were all afraid of when we found out about them. They’ve got to figure out a way to be around each other, whether they are together or not, and it not affect the band. It’s not fair to us and honestly…” he sighed again, fear on his features. “Honestly, you know, I’ve been thinking… I just keep wondering how many years we have left, realistically, before it’s time to stop touring… I don’t want to miss out on that because of some drama with them and their wives and whatever media fallout will come with whatever decision gets made.” Brad looked at Rob, whose eyes were drawn together thoughtfully after hearing Brad’s impassioned thoughts.

“I don’t know how much time we have left either,” Rob mused aloud. “I know Chester’s been struggling with his voice more on this tour than ever, but that’s why we wrote the last album the way we did, letting him find the comfortable ranges and such… I hope we have relevant years left in us, too, and I hope they figure it out. But you have to remember, we promised to stand with them, Brad, not make it worse. You have to control your anger on stage. This is hard on everyone, but Mike is really suffering.”

Dave and Joe had been across the small hallway, facing the guitarist and the drummer, listening to every word. Joe spoke up, “I’m pissed off too, but Rob’s right. We all agreed we were going to stand together on this. We’ve got to get them to make up.”

“Or just, back together, period,” Dave said, and all eyes turned toward him in astonishment. “What? You guys really think they’re going to last the way they are? You guys saw how happy they were when they were together. Are you really telling me you think that them _not_ being together is the natural conclusion to all of these years?”

Brad stepped away from the wall, running both hands up over his hair, causing it to fluff out taller than it had been in years. “If they’re going to end up together, Mike needs to get his head out of his ass and deal with his marriage. That’s what I’m telling you.”

Rob nodded, then glanced at the dressing room door. “It’s been more than five minutes. Shall we?” he asked, gesturing toward the door.

Everyone nodded in agreement, following behind Brad, who responded with determination, “let’s go fix this shit.”


	26. Expectations

“Alright, Shinoda,” Brad started as he opened the door, “we’ve all had enough of your bullshit.” He stopped short, Dave colliding into his back, as the sight of Mike and Chester holding hands came into view. He almost felt bad for interrupting what was clearly a moment between the two. “Well… okay. This is an improvement,” he finished lamely, waving a hand toward the pair on the couch.

Neither Mike nor Chester smiled or even looked at the rest of the band. “We’re… talking through some stuff,” Mike said tightly, his voice sounding ready to break. 

“Oh, good,” Joe breezed, settling in on the floor next to the couch and looking up at Mike. “What are we talking about?”

The scowl on Mike’s face could have shredded the bark off of trees. “It doesn’t really involve you, Hahn.”

“Oh, I disagree,” Rob said as he shut the door behind him and Dave. “It involves us all, now, Mike. Ever since you stopped being able to hold your own life together, it involves us all.”

“Yeah, we’re gonna fix this shit. Tonight,” Brad added, flopping down into a chair, his features fixed into a mask of serious determination.

“Tonight? Seriously? They’re going to kick us out of the venue,” Mike said desperately.

“Whatever, man, we’re _Linkin Park_. They’re not gonna do anything,” Dave smirked, knowing it was true. They’d stayed several hours past the end of sets before, and nobody had ever kicked them out of a venue. He wasn’t worried, and neither was anyone else. He settled into another chair, crossing his ankle over his knee.

“Don’t you guys want to get showers?” Mike tried again.

“Stop, Mike. Let’s just do this now,” Chester said softly, squeezing Mike’s fingers. 

Dropping down on the other side of Mike, Rob stretched his long legs away from the couch and continued to rub his forearms. “Yes, we’re going to deal with this now, Mike. You obviously have no idea what you’re doing and all of the rest of us are ready for you to grow some balls and deal with things.”

Groaning, Mike collapsed back onto the couch, covering his eyes with his free hand. 

“Stop being so dramatic, damn, Mike! You’re always the one that has your shit together. I think you just can’t stand being the one of us that needs help. Finally,” Dave commented astutely.

He was absolutely right. Mike was the problem solver, the driven, determined perfectionist. He’d spent countless hours building Linkin Park, building his marriage, building his public image. For the first time ever, everything was so far out of his control, and at the moment he was so confused about how he’d gotten in the mess he was in that he just shrugged his shoulders and said, “fine.”

“That’s a good Shinoda,” Brad said with a hint of humor in his voice. “Now… let’s get down to business before they kick us out.” He rolled his eyes and continued, “have you guys made up?”

Chester looked at Mike, whose head was still thrown back on the cushion, and answered for them both, “I’m not super happy with him right now, but yeah. We’re going to be okay.” 

“Okay, like, Mike can remember his fucking lines again?” Joe asked from the floor, where he was picking at his shoelaces.

“I can remember my fucking lines,” Mike grumbled from under his arm. 

“Uh-huh,” Dave said suspiciously at the same time Joe clapped his hands together and said, “okay, then, we’re done!”

Everyone looked at Joe, who frowned and questioned, “what? We’re not finished? Augh,” he exhaled as he fell back on the rug and closed his eyes. “I’m tired.”

Ignoring the deejay, Chester went on, “I was just telling Mike that I’d asked Talinda for a separation.”

“Ah,” Rob exhaled softly. “Well… I mean, now it’s all out there, right?” 

“Yeah… but that’s as far as we got before you guys came back,” Chester explained.

Rob nodded, looking thoughtful, his eyes on Mike, “so what’s up with you, Mike? Clearly you’re in a state of crisis, you’ve been a walking disaster. What’s going on with Anna?”

Arm still across his face, Mike mumbled, “I don’t know. We’re not really talking. I don’t know what to say to her. She doesn’t know what to say to me. It’s… awful.”

“You could start with being honest about you guys being in love,” Dave offered. Mike finally lifted his head from the couch and looked at Dave, who shrugged. “Well, you are, aren’t you? That’s what you told us a few nights ago…”

Chester looked at Mike, and Mike smiled tentatively before he answered, “yeah… yeah, we are… and have been for a long time.” Chester’s answering smile was brilliant, and Mike felt his heart swell in his chest. “I know that’s probably the best way to start. I’m just… scared of her reaction.”

“She has to already know,” Brad said. “I mean, we all figured it out. It’s not like you guys are just… fucking around…”

Joe snorted from the ground. Rob cracked a smile too before it faded and he asked seriously, “we’re not going to get into what you guys do behind closed doors. That’s your business, not ours. But… you guys told us your relationship wouldn’t affect the band, and it is… and obviously that’s a problem for all of us.”

“I know, I know,” Mike agreed. Chester rubbed his thumb across the back of Mike’s hand reassuringly, encouraging him on, “when i said that I really believed I could do this right. I thought I could go home in a few weeks and talk with Anna and have a rational, adult conversation about happiness and life, and it would all magically work out. Obviously, kissing Chester on stage screwed that whole plan up.”

“But why is Anna still here, Mike?” Brad questioned. “If you were going to talk to her anyway, why didn’t you tell her it was over the other night? You could have spared all of us some really embarrassing shows!” Chester cleared his throat and looked at Brad, who read his expression quickly. “Not that it’s all about _us_...” he trailed off. 

“I just… God, it’s so hard to explain,” Mike tried, sitting up and looking at his brothers, pausing as five sets of eyes locked in on his face as though he were about to say something profound. “I… I think it all has to do with expectations. I don’t know if you guys can understand what I mean when I say that being with Chester is so far out of the realm of the expectations I had for my life… I had everything all planned…” He looked at Chester and took a deep breath, looking only at his vocalist as he continued, “and then there was you, Ches, and we denied… _this_... as long as we did, and the longer we put it off, the deeper into _who I thought I was supposed to be_ I became. I didn’t know it would be so hard to break out of that mold. I didn’t know it would be so hard to dismantle everything I thought I knew, thought I should be… it doesn’t mean I don’t want to, that I don’t want to be with you… because I do, so much… I just… I think…” There was a long pause. “I’m just scared of what people will think, Chester. I’m afraid of letting people down.” Mike’s eyes flicked to Brad, who was staring at him with tears in his eyes.

Brad felt like he was sixteen again, that everything Mike had just said was from a script, from a scene that had unraveled long ago, a scene in which he had been the speaker. He couldn’t say aloud how closely he understood where Mike was coming from, but both the guitarist and the emcee seemed to understand the meaning of the unshed tears glistening in Brad’s eyes. 

_He gets it,_ Mike thought. _He understands because he was me. He was too scared of what everyone would think about him, about us, when we were kids._ The realization hit him like a sucker punch. _I don’t want to live with that kind of regret._ “It’s like there are two of me, the Mike that everyone sees and the Mike that only you see,” he explained quietly, his eyes coming to rest on Chester’s face.

“Which Mike do you want to be?” Chester asked softly.

Mike looked at Chester, then at Brad who seemed to be holding his breath the same as Chester was, and every last bit of doubt he’d been carrying in his heart vanished. “I want to be yours, Ches,” he answered softly, his eyes back on Chester, “I want to be the Mike that you see. No regrets.”

Chester closed his eyes for a moment before he nodded his head and whispered, “you know what you have to do, then.” 

Mike nodded his head, his throat closed with emotion. For several minutes, nobody spoke. The gravity of what was happening to Mike was settling in on everyone. Where Chester always seemed to be in a state of flux, almost hapless disarray, moving through life on a whim, following his heart always, Mike had been on one path the entire time the guys had known him, and that path had taken a ninety degree turn with very little warning. It was going to be hard, not just for him, but for everyone. Two decades together had brought the six of them closer than blood, and the band as a unit was prepared to do whatever was necessary to help, even if Mike wasn’t sure he wanted the help; they all knew their role in supporting him.

“Tomorrow is a travel day, an off day,” Dave offered quietly after a while. “We’ll all go out and leave you guys alone if you want to speak to her tomorrow.”

Chester squeezed Mike’s hand again as Mike looked at him. “She’s not coming to the shows anyway, Mike. I think she knows that you aren’t coming back to her. Just go ahead and get it over with.”

“Rip the band aid off,” Joe supplied.

“Yes, that,” Chester smiled, pointing at Joe. “That’s the idea. Just rip the band aid off.”

“Do it now before you do something else stupid,” Brad added in what he thought was a helpful tone, but to which Mike rolled his eyes.

“I’m sorry, you guys. I’ve been a mess and I’ve put you guys in the middle of it all,” Mike started, but Rob shushed him.

“Don’t apologize, man. We’re here for you, Mike. We’ve been here since the beginning of _Mike and Chester_ … and I think we can all say, it’s about damn time you both quit trying to pretend there’s nothing there,” Rob said.

“I’m actually kinda proud of you guys,” Dave piped up again. “And we’ve never worried about people’s expectations for our albums, or anything else we do. So I think you should stop caring about anyone’s expectations for your private lives. It’s going to be okay, whatever happens. We’re all in this together.”

Mike looked around at his bandmates, his best friends, his brothers, and breathed a sigh of relief as his eyes settled on Chester. As always, it was Chester who said, smiling, “it’s all going to be okay.”

**********

As it turned out, Dave was right, and nobody came to kick them out of the venue, despite the extra long time they took in the dressing room. By the time everyone was in the vans, ready to go, it was well past midnight. The adrenaline from the show and the impromptu meeting had worn off and Mike was past the point of exhaustion. 

Chester settled into the seat next to him and reached for his hand, smoothing his thumb over the back, his eyes hidden in the darkness. Mike was at a level of tired that he couldn’t begin to explain, having not rested well since Anna had shown up in Florida. His arms and legs felt weighted, as though he couldn’t move them, but he managed to snuggle closer to Chester, the other man’s body a comfort. 

Fighting the sleep he knew was coming, Mike leaned his head onto Chester’s shoulder, melting into him. “I’m sorry for everything I’ve put you through, Ches,” he whispered, close to Chester’s ear. “I’ve made some mistakes but I’m going to make it right. I don’t want you to doubt me, but I understand that you do right now. I promise you… I’m going to do the right thing. I promise you.” He felt Chester squeeze his hand for the hundredth time that night. 

“You forget that I _know_ you, Mikey. Better than you know yourself. I’m not going to tell you the past few days have been okay, or that you haven’t hurt me… but I believed in you always. I believed you’d come back to me.”

Mike sighed sleepily and shook his head even though he knew Chester couldn’t see him. “You’re too good to me, Ches.” 

He heard the laugh in Chester’s voice before he drifted off to sleep, “yeah, you’re a lucky guy, Shinoda.” He felt Chester’s lips brush his forehead, and then he was out.


	27. Okay

Chester had given up his seat on the plane for Anna to sit next to Mike, and it had killed Mike to watch Chester’s slim hand reach hesitantly for Brad’s during takeoff, though his heart softened when Brad simply squeezed Chester’s fingers as they took flight. The flight passed quickly and quietly, most of the band absorbed in their own music or reading material. 

Mike had stared at the same page in his book for the almost two hours they were in the air, trying to compose what he wanted to say to Anna when they got to the hotel. His stomach hurt but he was determined to “rip the band aid off,” as Joe had said last night. The first step in this new life was getting Anna to understand that he was still the same person he’d always been, at least he thought he was. _It’s not like I woke up one day and just decided to leave my family for no reason. Well… I don’t think she’s going to understand my reasons. It’s not going to matter to her what the reasons are… she’s going to hate me. God, this is just the worst._

He blew out a long breath without realizing it, and Anna looked at him, exasperated. “You okay?”

“Yeah, why?” he asked.

“You’ve been sighing every five minutes or so the whole flight,” Anna replied, looking away and out the window. “You only do that when you’ve got stuff on your mind.” 

Mike glanced across the aisle at the side of Chester’s face, at Chester’s hand still linked in Brad’s, and forced out, “we’re having dinner tonight. Just you and me.” Anna turned away from the window and caught Mike’s eye as he turned back to her. _She looks scared. She knows. She knows where this is going._ He reached for her hand but she made no move to hold his. Covering the top of her small hand with his own, he repeated the only thing he could think to say. “It’s going to be okay.”

**********

“What do you think they’re talking about? Do you think he’s told her yet? Do you think they’re fighting? What if he can’t tell her again? What then?” Chester was fidgeting in his seat, his plate virtually untouched, his stomach in knots. Everyone else had finished their dinner, and Chester had taken maybe two bites. It was impossible for him to eat, not knowing what was happening with Mike and Anna.

Rob was thankful they’d taken Chester away from the hotel for the evening, he was sure that they would have needed to restrain him if he’d been in the same building as Mike. “Jesus, Chester, you need to relax. He’s talking to her. He promised you. You believe him, don’t you?”

“Yes! Well… mostly... “ Chester whined miserably. It was torture to not know what was happening, to not be able to encourage Mike when his resolve faltered. He was terrified that Mike wouldn’t be able to see it through, to end things with Anna, to commit to being _his,_ fully and without any hesitation. Even though he’d been calm and put together on the outside the past several days, the facade was crumbling as Chester waited with the band for Mike to close the door on his past. 

“I think he knows how much he’s fucked up,” Brad started. “I believe him, Chester, when he says he’s going to tell her the truth. You are going to have to calm down and let it happen. You can’t help him right now.”

Chester let out another frustrated sound, a cross between a growl and a sigh. Scratching his head, he looked around the table and said, “you guys have to get me out of here. Let’s go play mini golf or go bowling or something. I can’t just sit here.”

Instantly, Joe was on his phone. “There’s an indoor blacklight mini-golf around the corner. We could probably get away with that. Pull those hats low, guys, and Chester keep your arms covered. C’mon… I’ll let the driver know.”

Dave rubbed his hands together with a smile. “I’m so gonna kick some ass tonight!”

Chester checked his phone one more time before pocketing it. No missed calls, no texts. If he didn’t hear from Mike soon, he’d be trying to convince the guys to take him to a bar next. Sighing, he followed the rest of his bandmates out of the restaurant, mentally preparing to beat Dave at his favorite game. 

**********

“I don’t really want to go out, Mike. I’m not hungry.” Anna sat on the bed, legs tucked up underneath, her expression troubled. “Besides, I know you really just want to talk. And I don’t think I want to do this in public.”

Mike ran a hand through his perfectly styled hair, causing the front to feather over his forehead, chewing his bottom lip nervously, looking toward the window where the sunlight was fading away, softly filtering through the curtains. “There’s really no easy way to start this, Anna.”

Sighing, Anna propped several pillows against the headboard and settled back into the stack, making herself more comfortable. “This is about you and Chester.” It was a statement, not a question.

Mike nodded, unsure where to sit. The chair in the corner was too far away, but the bed seemed too close. After a moment of indecision, he settled on the far end of the bed, one foot touching the ground, the other foot tucked up under his thigh. _Rip the band aid off, Mike. Do it fast. Do it now. You can do it. Say it. Tell her. Jesus, I think I’m going to be sick._

“I think… no… I _know_... I’m in love with Chester, Anna,” he said tentatively, his hands shaking and pain evident in his eyes as she looked at him, silent. “I’m in love with Chester,” he said again, stronger the second time, “and… I’m sorry I’ve lied to you.”

Holding his gaze, Anna exhaled slowly. Seconds ticked by slowly before she broke the silence, surprising him with her response to his confession. “I’ve known for a long time, Mike. I was just waiting for you to realize it yourself. I guess I was really hoping that you never would.”

“You’ve… known? How could you possibly-”

“Please, Mike. I’ve seen hundreds of pictures, and God, the videos! of you two over the years. The way you look at him? The smile on your face while he talks? How he can say the absolute dumbest thing and you’re right there beside him, laughing at whatever it is…” She finally looked away, her mind thumbing through the evidence. “When he and Sam split up, you were consumed with him… when he introduced us to Talinda I thought you were going to be sick. Oh, and if he’s sick? You’re there, bringing him his meds, making sure he’s resting… when he broke his ankle you doted on him for weeks. You’re _always_ together, Mike. You should see the way your face lights up when he texts you. The way you mimic every move he makes. God, the way you two are on stage… there’s no shortage of reasons why _everyone_ already thinks there’s… more there than you two are admitting.” 

She gestured to his wedding ring. “Did it never occur to you when he married Talinda how similar his wedding ring is to yours?” Anna sighed, long unspoken thoughts flickering in her head. “I remember sitting across from the two of you at their reception, and you both were resting your hands on your knees, and it struck me right then that your rings matched… I could have been sitting at your wedding.”

Mike felt her words twist in his stomach. _Chester married Talinda before we even started sharing a bed. It’s not possible… is it possible that we’ve both been in love with each other, without knowing it, without admitting it to ourselves or each other, for that long? It just can’t be. It can’t._ He shook his head no to his unsaid questions. “Anna, our… relationship… has been purely friendship until two months ago. I swear to you this has not been going on behind your back for years.”

“Oh, I believe you, Mike. You’re terrible at keeping secrets.” She smiled vaguely, “obviously. I can’t believe you kissed him on stage.” 

He drew in a deep breath. “It was wrong of me, Anna. Wrong of me to keep this from you, wrong of me to not give you all the facts the other night. You deserve better than that. I know that nothing I can say is going to make things right between us, but I want to be honest with you, and I hope that you can at least try to understand me, understand what’s going on here.” He looked down at his hands, twisting his wedding ring around as he spoke. _I’m really trying to do this right, just please, please let me get this right tonight._

“I understand perfectly well what is going on here, Mike. You’ve been living a lie our entire marriage.” Anna delivered the blow calmly, as though she weren’t accusing her husband of having cheated on her for the past twenty years.

MIke’s head snapped up, his eyes ablaze. “No! No, that’s not true!” he cried vehemently, “I love you, Anna, and I don’t regret our marriage, not for one minute! I didn’t _try_ to fall in love with someone else, I swear that to you. I was always faithful to you, even in the beginning, when Linkin Park was coming up and there were literally women _everywhere_ , I _never_ screwed around on you, Anna. There’s been nobody else.”

“Except Chester.” 

Mike passed a hand over his face, scratching at his beard, wishing he could undo it all. _If only I had done this right. Chester was right, I should have ended my marriage before we got physical_. He sighed again, shifting on the bed, “you already know that, Anna, don’t make me say it again… you were there in Florida…”

“Confronted with your infidelity by a bottle of lube and Chester’s clothes all over your room,” she finished with venom in her voice. 

Mike’s cheeks burned red at the reminder of the state his room had been in when she arrived. “Believe me, I never wanted you to see that.”

“Why? So you could get out of telling me the truth longer than you already have? You know, Mike, you’ve talked about Chester in your sleep for years. I should have said something sooner. Maybe I could have stopped this before it even started. Maybe I could have changed the path somehow.”

Mike shook his head miserably. _Fuck all this sleep talking! And nobody ever said anything about it, fuck everyone!_ “I don’t think so… I think… this was meant to be this way. Fated, if you will.” He glanced at Anna in time to catch the incredulous look on her face. “What? You don’t believe in stuff like that?”

She looked at Mike as though he had suddenly grown another head. “You know I don’t believe in things like fate, soulmates… relationships take work, Michael.” He nodded his head as she continued, “I was so angry at you the other night. And then just so sad, for us, for the kids… I got wrapped up in the sentimentality of everything. And I never should have even considered for one minute asking you to give us another try, because I knew, deep down, that there was no way we could work this out. It doesn’t matter, all the history, the life we’ve built, even our children, it will never be enough for you, Mike. It’s always, _always_ been about Chester. You’ve never fully been present for us because part of your heart, whether you acknowledged it or not, has always belonged to him.”

Once again, Mike objected to his wife’s accusation that he’d never been fully invested in their marriage. “Anna, Jesus… give me more credit than that, please! I didn’t know, Anna, I swear to you, I believed that you and I were going to be forever. It was my plan, you know? Marry a smart, beautiful woman, have a family, build a successful career… I have everything anyone could want, Anna, I had no reason to look elsewhere. I don’t know how to explain it… Chester and I… I just… it’s different.”

The laugh that escaped Anna’s throat was caught between a giggle and a sob. “Different… yeah… because he’s a man, Mike. He’s supposed to be your friend, not your… lover.” 

“It’s… stronger than that, I can’t explain it! We’re… it’s almost like we’re the same person sometimes. I don’t know,” he said again miserably, “it’s not like anything else I’ve ever experienced. It’s like we were _meant_ to exist together, musically, emotionally, even…” he blushed, then plowed ahead, “physically. There’s always just been this… _thing_... between us.” He could see the pain evident on her face as Anna processed everything Mike was saying, but he went on, quieter now, “I didn’t set out to fall in love with him, Anna, it just happened. Don’t you think I beat myself up over it every day? Do you know how guilty I feel? How much I hate myself for hurting you? Worrying over what people will think? How this will affect the band?” 

Nothing Mike had said cut into Anna’s heart as much as his last words, and she rolled her eyes. “The band. Damn, I’m so tired of hearing about _the band._ Do you care about anything else? About our kids? How’s that going to go, when you tell them you’re going to go live with Uncle Chester?”

“Of course I worry about our kids, Anna,” he pleaded with her, “I think I’ve been a good dad, I love them, Anna, and I’m so damn afraid you’re going to take them away from me.”

For the first time, Mike saw a softness in his wife’s expression. “I wouldn’t do that, Mike. You _are_ a wonderful Daddy. There’s just so much… so many things to decide and… I hate this so much. I can’t believe this is really happening.” She want on, her eyes far away. “I never really thought this day would come. I never thought the two of you would ever just… give up everything you have to be together… everything… you’re giving up everything.”

_Not everything,_ Mike thought. _Chester will still be there. Linkin Park will still be there. My kids will still be there, and you will still be there, just different. Maybe, just maybe, I can have it all._ The hope took root in his heart as he thought of the possibilities of the future. “I’m still me, Anna. It might not feel like it to you right now, but inside I’m still the person you know, even if things around us are changing. I don’t know how long I’ve been in love with Chester, or how long he’s been in love with me. Maybe you’re right. Maybe it’s been twenty years. I don’t know. All I know is I can’t continue the way things are… it’s not right, Anna. But I will do whatever I can to make it easier on you, and the kids. I do love you, Anna.”

“Just not enough,” she finished softly. “Not the way you love Chester.”

Mike closed his eyes against the wave of sorrowful truth her words brought. “No,” he agreed sadly. “I’ll never love anyone the way I love Chester.”

The finality of Mike’s words was enough for the evening, Anna didn’t think that tonight she could say another word to the man she’d spent half her life with… she needed some space. “I just… I don’t think I can be in the same room with you right now, Mike. I want you to go.” She looked at him, bitterness in her expression, and gestured toward his suitcase. “Just go to him, Mike. Take your stuff and go to Chester.”

Opening his eyes, Mike looked at his bag, and hesitated. He knew if he walked out, it was really and truly over with Anna. It would start the negotiation of property and money and custody agreements, and it would be the end of the Mike that he had so carefully constructed for the world. It would be the end of an era that had lasted half of his life. His chest felt tight with the kind of suffocating weight reserved for life altering moments such as this; there was no returning from this moment. Even though he knew he wanted his life with Chester, walking out the door now was closing the book on a huge part of who he was, who he had been. He looked at Anna, at the tears flowing freely down her face, and he felt the heavy sorrow for his marriage and the pain he was causing her crushing his lungs. “Anna… I’m sorry,” he managed to choke out.

Nodding her head, she waved a hand at his bag. “Go, Mike,” she whispered, “go to him.”

Rising, he swallowed back a sob as he grabbed the handle of the bag, and, placing the keycard on the table, walked out the door.

**********

Chester had just stepped into his soft pajama bottoms when there was a light knock on the door. Frowning, he stepped over his shoes and opened the door, the breath knocked out of him when he saw it was Mike, his overnight bag in his hand. “Mike?”

Mike’s face crumpled as he sobbed out Chester’s name. “Ches… can I stay here tonight?”

Chester reached for his hand, pulling him into the room and closing the door behind him. “Mikey? What happened? Did you and Anna talk?”

Releasing the grip on his bag, Mike only nodded his head, unable to speak just yet. He felt Chester guide him to the bed, and they sat next to each other, Chester’s arms around him while he cried on his shoulder. After what felt like hours to Mike, once his body was drained of emotion, of tears, of the ability to hold himself up, he found himself able to croak out, “it’s over, Ches… my marriage… it’s over.”

Chester felt Mike’s body melt into his heavily, and he stroked Mike’s back softly with his palms, holding him close, the only words coming to mind a repetition from the night before. “It’s going to be okay.”


	28. Daydream

Something woke Chester from a warm, comfortable sleep, but he wasn’t sure what it was. Mike was curled behind him, still asleep, his arm heavy across Chester’s stomach. He held still, and then heard what must have woken him- a light knock at the door. Carefully, he slid out from underneath Mike’s arm, fumbling on his glasses and glancing at the emcee before padding softly to the door, opening it a crack as softly as possible. He was surprised and embarrassed to see Anna on the other side, feeling strangely underdressed in front of her, despite the fact he regularly appeared on stage in roughly the same amount of clothing.

Anna looked equally uncomfortable. “Chester…” She peered in the crack, trying to see into the room, but Chester’s body was blocking most of the view. “Is Mike here?”

A streak of protectiveness coursed through Chester’s veins. “Yeah. He’s asleep, though.” He watched as Anna troubled her bottom lip with her teeth, trying to make a decision. Chester decided to make it for her. “I’m not going to wake him right now… it… he was a mess last night.”

Anger flashed in Anna’s eyes for a moment, challenging Chester’s statement, before fading quickly into sorrow as she took in a deep breath. “It’s probably easier this way anyway. I’ve got a flight home, I’m leaving now. You’ll tell him for me?” 

“Of course,” Chester said softly. A moment passed between them, Mike’s wife on one side of the door, Mike’s lover on the other. Neither of them needed to say a word for the understanding of what was happening to occur to them both, for the past and the future to make itself painfully clear in the present. Chester looked at the floor and started, “Anna, I-”

“Don’t… don’t, Chester,” she interrupted without even a trace of malice. She just sounded… tired. Resigned. Defeated. “There’s nothing you can say.”

“I want to say I’m sorry, anyway. Because I am. I never meant for this to happen.” He looked up and met Anna’s eyes again, a faint blush crossing his pale cheeks.

Anna looked at him and saw in that moment the same vulnerable, broken, twenty-two year old boy that had walked into her life two decades ago. The person responsible for every aspect of her adult life as it had been, was, and would become. The reason that Mike’s dreams had come true, the reason she lived her comfortable life, the reason that same life was all unraveling now. What would her life have been if Chester had never been a part of it, if he’d turned down that audition all those years ago? Would Mike be laying in her bed right now, in some humble four bedroom ranch house, happy with what he had? Would it have all crumbled down around her anyway? She wanted to hate Chester but his sweet, compassionate eyes pleaded with her to understand, and even though she couldn’t give him the blessing he wanted, she managed to respond, “I know.”

It was enough for now. Chester nodded his head and then whispered, “I’ll tell him you’ve gone.”

Reaching for her bag, Anna turned to walk away, but stopped and looked back at Chester. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Chester. I hope you mean to stay with him forever, because you will destroy him if you ever leave.”

The soft smile on Chester’s face was an answer in itself, but Chester said, in a clear and strong, but quiet voice, “I’m not leaving. I’ll never leave him.” 

She didn’t look convinced but nodded her head anyway, tears in the corners of her eyes again as she turned and headed away, down the hallway, back to what used to be a happy home. Chester looked after Anna until he could no longer see her, then sighed.

Shutting the door, Chester walked back to the bed where Mike had thankfully slept through the entire encounter with Anna, his heart flipping at the sight of Mike’s dark hair contrasting with the white sheets, only his face visible with the duvet pulled high under his chin. He slid back into the bed, bringing his phone with him to fire off a text to Rob as he snuggled back next to Mike’s warmth. 

8:30 AM _We’re not going to make it down to breakfast. Mike’s still asleep_

8:33 AM _Everything ok?_

8:33 AM _Yeah. Long night_

8:34 AM _Brad wants to know if you want us to bring up breakfast._

Chester looked over at Mike, who was still soundly sleeping next to him, his breathing slow and even, face relaxed and baby soft. He didn’t have the heart to wake him after their late night, with Mike taking hours to calm down and fall asleep with Chester in his arms. He sent a last text to Rob before placing the phone next to his pillow, lifting Mike’s arm, and wrapping himself back inside Mike’s arms.

8:35 AM _No. I’ll order room service when he wakes up_

8:35 AM _Let me know if you need anything_

It was only a half hour later before Mike slowly became aware that he was in bed, a warm, comfortable bed, with Chester’s back flush again his chest. Stretching his toes toward the foot of the bed, he moved the arm that was holding his lover against him to spread his fingers wide on his chest, pulling him in even closer for a good morning hug. _He’s here. We’re together. Really, truly together now._ Mike nuzzled his nose into the nape of Chester’s neck, breathing in his scent, brushing his lips over the soft skin. _God, I missed him so much._

“Morning, Mikey,” Chester crooned sleepily, all thoughts of Anna gone from his head instantly.

“Mmmmm,” was as far as Mike got before Chester’s hand reached behind him, tangling in Mike’s hair, crushing lips against skin, pulling Mike closer. Caressing the black strands between his fingers, Chester moaned appreciatively as Mike’s lips moved softly down his neck, whispering against his skin, “I can’t believe this. I never thought you’d be mine, Ches.”

“I’m yours,” Chester confirmed, turning to hook a leg around Mike’s waist, resting their foreheads together. The answering smile on Mike’s face was the most beautiful smile Chester had seen in his forty-one years. “You’re mine.”

“I’m yours,” Mike breathed, his lips still turned up in a brilliant smile, eyes closed in the simple joy of knowing the truth, that everyone who mattered had been let in on their precious secret. Despite the fear and heartbreak that had consumed him until the wee hours last night, Mike felt curiously free this morning, holding Chester in his arms. He wanted to push last night’s unpleasantness out of his mind, he didn’t want to think about everything that was uncertain. He wanted to lose himself in a shared daydream. “Tell me, Ches… tell me what it’s going to be like.”

A puff of gentle laughter hit Mike’s face as Chester asked, “what?”

“Tell me what it’s going to be like to be yours. To be the Mike that you see.” He opened his eyes to Chester’s tender expression, to Chester running a finger down the side of his face and resting against his lips, where Mike kissed his fingertip gently.

“First thing, when this tour is over, we’re going to Hawaii,” Chester started. Mike nodded his approval as the outline continued. “Let’s go straight there from Japan. We’ll get a private cabin, on some tiny abandoned island, away from the paparazzi, where we can bathe in waterfalls and make love on the beach…”

Mike’s fingers began to roam over Chester’s back, his memory tracing the lines of the tattoos there even though they were out of sight. “And after this fabulous vacation, where are we going to live, Chester?”

“Let’s buy a new house. Let’s _build_ a house. You’re creative, you can design one for us.”

Mike chuckled quietly. “I’m an artist, not an architect.”

“Same thing,” Chester said with a flip in his voice, knowing full well it wasn’t even close to the same thing, but believing that Mike could design anything. His Mike, the man of so many talents, could surely imagine and sketch the perfect home for them, and he’d find the perfect architect to bring it to reality.

“I’ll design you the very best vocal booth,” Mike contributed to their fantasy, “everything we have at Warner, I’ll put in our home studio for you.”

“Sounds expensive,” Chester mused.

“I don’t care. We’ve got more than we can spend. Anything for you,” Mike breathed, dipping his head forward to catch Chester’s lips.

The kiss was fleeting before Chester mumbled, “we’ll only have half of what we’ve got now. If we’re lucky.”

Anxiety clouded Mike’s face for a moment as Chester spoke. “I don’t want to talk about that right now, Ches. I want to talk about what it’s going to be like when it’s done, when it’s all sorted and everyone knows about us.”

“Everyone? So now we’re telling the fans?” Chester looked doubtful for a moment, looking at the lovestruck expression in Mike’s eyes. “You’re sure, Mike? You were so wrapped up in what people thought just the other night…”

“I don’t care,” Mike husked, “the hard part, telling Anna, that’s over. I want everyone to know you’re mine. I want to walk with your hand in mine, I want to come home to you every day, I want to kiss you on stage, I want both our fake names together on our shared hotel rooms. I want everything, like I told you before. Everything, Chester.”

Mike’s excitement was infectious, and even though Chester knew that there would be more tough days than the perfect days Mike was imagining in the immediate future, he let Mike continue his blissful ramble of all the things he imagined their new life together would be. 

“I want to wake up with you in my arms. I want to have lazy morning sex and crazy shower sex and everything in between. I want to make breakfast with you, and watch the meticulous way you make our coffee. I want to sit on the porch and watch the sunrise, and the sunset. Can you imagine, Chester, what it will be like to just write whenever we want? Record whenever your voice feels strong? Watch a movie or make cookies, or go for a swim, or anything we ever want to do together, whenever we want to do it?” Mike was enthusiastically inside his fantasy world, pulling Chester along with him. “I can paint you,” he breathed out in a low, sultry tone.

“Mikey,” Chester giggled breathlessly, “and all the kids in the mix… what are they doing while we’re wrapped up in each other? While you’re painting nudes of me?“ 

“Entertaining each other. You’ve got some old enough to drive, we’ll buy one of those awful, tacky, fifteen passenger vans and let the kids go out when we need to be alone. Our kids love each other, Ches, it’s going to be amazing.” Mike grinned, squeezing Chester’s arms excitedly. “You’ll see. Besides, what kid wouldn’t want to say, ‘my dads are Mike Shinoda and Chester Bennington of Linkin Park?’”

Chester’s answering laugh was so loud Mike clasped a hand over his mouth, shushing him dramatically. “Shinnington,” escaped Chester’s mouth around Mike’s hand, and they gasped laughter together. “What? It’s better than ‘Bennoda,’” Chester laughed.

“No way, Bennoda is totally better. Shinnington… sounds… like… a disease!” Mike couldn’t contain himself, his laughter shaking the bed. They lay together, coming down from the imagined hilarity of combining their last names, before Mike became serious. “Chester?”

“Yeah?” Chester knew from the change in the tone of Mike’s voice that the conversation was about to take a turn. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong… I was just thinking… wondering, really…” his cheeks blushed pink as he struggled to articulate his thoughts. “Do you think… would you… ever… would you ever want to get married?” he finished in a rush, his voice faltering at the end, his eyes hopeful.

“Oh, Mike… I’d marry you today if it were possible.” As the beginning of another smile started, Chester shook his head and pressed his finger to Mike’s lips again. “Mikey… I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s going to be a while before we can be together that way. It’s going to be a while before we can say anything, really, unless you want to give Anna all the ammunition she needs to take everything you have from you. Including your kids.” He watched Mike’s face fall, the anxiety return to his features, and Chester felt the sadness pull at his heart. “I’ve been through this before, Mike. It can get so ugly. And even when you think you’ve got it all worked out, it can get ugly again out of nowhere, for no reason. The hardest part isn’t over with, yet.”

Mike closed his eyes against Chester’s words, unwilling to let reality ruin his mood. “I worried myself sick over all the possibilities and the unknowns last night, Ches,” Mike breathed, his voice soft, broken, the corners of his mouth turned down in a slight frown. “I can’t think about all that right now. I just want to lay here with you and imagine how wonderful it’s going to be. Because it will be, eventually. It has to be, because _this_ , you and me, Chester, we were meant to be together. I know it. I feel it.” 

Soft kisses on his face and gentle fingers in his hair were the only answers Chester gave Mike, but Mike knew he felt it too, the inevitability of it all-- the cataclysmic ending of their marriages aside, everything in their lives seemed to point toward this ending, this beginning of a new chapter. Mike brought his hands up to cup Chester’s cheeks, his thumbs stroking over the fine scruff that had grown overnight, and he caught Chester’s lips with his own, tilting the other man’s head and deepening their kiss until they were breathless. 

Pulling away slightly, Chester murmured, “I love you, Mikey. I do. And I’ll marry you someday.”

“I’m forgiven, then?” Mike questioned, genuinely curious, his lips feathering over Chester’s jawline. He knew he’d really hurt Chester with his indecision, but he hoped he was articulating to him now that he was definitely all in, he was here to stay, no reservations, no regrets.

“Yes,” Chester gasped as Mike sucked his earlobe between his teeth, nipping the soft flesh gently, his breath warm in Chester’s ear. 

“Ches… oh, Chester, I love you too.” 

Warm words hushed into Chester’s ear and he shivered as he placed a hand on Mike’s chest, gently pushing him onto his back and sliding on top of his warm body. Mike’s hands rested easily on Chester’s back, smoothing along his skin tenderly, their bodies melting together as Chester dropped kisses on Mike’s face. “No need to wait, I think lazy morning sex might be in order now,” he whispered between kisses, moving down, sliding along Mike’s body until he covered one mocha colored nipple with his lips, teasing the emcee with his tongue and the flick of a fingernail against the other hardening bud. Low, satisfied, small sounds were coming from Mike’s throat and Chester took it as a sign of agreement, littering his chest with kisses, followed by light scrapes of fingernails that caused Mike’s growing arousal to jump against Chester’s thigh.

After reaching the top of Mike’s boxers, Chester reluctantly, and to Mike’s disapproving whine, rose from the bed to retrieve the new little bottle of lube that had optimistically replaced the one lost in Florida. Mike’s hungry eyes followed the vocalist’s lithe movements until he returned to their bed, wasting no time in opening and slathering lube on Mike’s fingers, and Mike wasted no time gently probing and stretching Chester as he writhed above him. It was with sweet kisses and caresses that Chester finally sank slowly down over Mike’s erection, and Mike grasped Chester’s hips with care, and they moved together languidly, in absolutely no hurry to climax, their only focus each other, an overwhelming sense of peace draped over them both. There was no urgency in their lovemaking, just an intimate connection of mind, body, and soul, their eyes locked into each other, their breathing in sync, each and every movement reciprocated tenderly. The sensations swirled around them, through them, building with tantalizing slowness, each deliberate thrust upward of Mike’s hips meeting Chester’s sinking body at the perfect angle. Chester came first, his head thrown back as Mike watched the ecstacy sweep across Chester’s delicate features, reaching a hand up his torso, stroking the sweat from his skin, grazing his fingertips across the inked patterns that fascinated him so much, feeling each tight squeeze of Chester’s body around him, then feeling himself fly over the edge, losing himself completely inside the man he loved, had always loved, would always love, crying his name over and over as Chester fell down on him, covering his body with warmth, and love, and peace. They had given themselves to each other, belonged to each other, and their declarations felt euphoric. Mike stroked Chester’s back tenderly, and he felt on top of the world, nothing could bring him down. At that moment, he saw his daydream becoming their reality, nothing standing in the way.


	29. Reality

Chester paused in the doorway, looking at Mike in his soft black t-shirt and striped boxers, his hair a fluffy mess as he leaned back against the headboard of their bed, legs outstretched and ankles crossed, brows furrowed as he sorted through some papers. “Bourdie’s got breakfast ready,” he offered quietly.

Mike looked up from what he was reading, his furrowed eyebrows relaxing into a soft smile. “Okay.”

“What are you reading?” Chester gestured toward the papers.

The smile faded as Mike glanced at the papers in his hand, tapping them into a neat stack and setting them aside as he stood up. “It’s the temporary support and custody orders. I’m supposed to be deciding what I want to offer in settlement and I was looking at these as a guide.” He reached to rub some of the tension from his neck but found Chester beside him in a heartbeat, his cool thumbs stroking down his neck in just the right places with perfect pressure. Almost instantly Mike felt the stress in his neck and shoulders begin to melt away. _He always knows exactly how to touch me to make everything better._

Mike felt a light kiss at the nape of his neck and Chester asked, “do you want to talk about it?”

“Nah, let’s go eat before it gets cold. You can share all your wisdom with me later,” he winked at Chester, then continued hopefully, “there’s bacon, right?”

“Of course there’s bacon, my love,” Chester replied, squeezing Mike’s sides in a ticklish hug as they started for the kitchen. 

Even after three weeks of crashing at Rob’s house, their drummer was still waking up and making them breakfast, despite Chester’s repeated offers to cook. Rob had brushed them off with some story about how it had been a while since he’d had anyone to cook for, and that he really didn’t mind as it allowed him to try out some new recipes he’d been wanting to make. This morning was a breakfast quiche with bacon inside, but Rob had dutifully fried up two additional slices for Mike, who was leaning against the bar already halfway through the first piece. 

Chester was pouring water over his freshly ground coffee beans of preference, savoring the scent of fresh coffee, when Rob glanced at Mike and his bacon. “Morning. What’s in your plans for today?”

Mike shrugged, picking up the second piece of bacon. “No ideas yet. I’ve got some stuff from the lawyer to look over, decide what I want to offer as a settlement… I really just want to get everything decided so we can get out of your hair. You’re awesome for letting us stay here, Bourdie.”

“Well, we couldn’t have one-third of Linkin Park sleeping on the streets of LA, could we?” Rob’s soft eyes twinkled in amusement. “You know any of the guys would have let you stay, it’s just easier when you don’t have a mess of kids running around.”

Chester snorted as he pushed coffee cups across the bar at his bandmates. “It _is_ nice and relaxing without all that noise, maybe we’ll just stay here.”

Mike looked over at Chester skeptically. “Whatever, Ches, you know you love the chaos of kids and animals.”

It was the wrong thing to say. Chester’s face fell immediately as he thought of his children, his beloved pets, and Mike instantly wished he could take the words back. Neither of them had spent substantial time with their families since returning from tour. It almost felt as though they were still on tour, as disconnected from their homes lives as they both found themselves. 

Understandably, neither of their wives had wanted them back in their houses, but only Talinda had given her husband warning. Chester had already made plans to stay with Rob for the six weeks between tours, with the intent of finding a permanent place after they concluded the cycle in Japan. Mike had arrived on the doorstep of his home to be met with Anna and someone he didn’t know, a large envelope with his name on it, and the stranger asking him if he was Michael Kenji Shinoda before serving him with his copy of the petition for divorce Anna had already filed. The stranger was gone before he could even draw in a breath, and he had looked at Anna despairingly. 

_”Can I at least see the kids before I go?” he’d asked desperately. “It’s been six weeks, Anna, please.”_

_She’d looked at him with zero compassion, shaking her head no. “They’re asleep. I’ve already changed the locks. Here’s your car keys. You can come tomorrow and get your clothes, I’ll take the kids out.”_

_“Wait, what? When can I see them again?”_

_“My lawyer will be in touch.”_

Mike had numbly driven himself to Rob’s, and he and Chester had been here since that night, and Mike had seen his children only twice. Chester at least had been allowed into his house to spend time with his kids, and it seemed to Mike that his break with Talinda was going much more amicably than his own with Anna. _Must be the perks of having a pre-nup. I never thought I’d need that…_

He pulled himself out of his thoughts and reached to place his hand over Chester’s. “Sorry… I know you miss them.”

Rob had sliced the quiche and was spooning cut fruit onto the plates next to the wedges of eggy goodness. He looked up, his hair falling across his glasses, and asked, “when will you see them again?”

It was Chester’s turn to shrug. “I think tomorrow. Maybe I’ll see if T will let me bring them here for the afternoon.” He looked at Mike. “Apparently there won’t be any overnight visits until everything is finished. I think she’s concerned about the girls knowing that we’re together. I still haven’t really figured out what even needs to be said to the kids about all this. It’s not like they don’t know you. You’ve been in their lives since the beginning. In my head it’s just a natural transition.”

It was true, but it didn’t make their situation less complicated. Mike also hadn’t worked out what to say to his kids when the time came to let them know that Uncle Chester would be living with him, permanently. He had wished he could at least talk to Otis about it all before Anna did, but he was certain that opportunity was lost. Anna was hurt and bitter, and he wasn’t sure she could keep that bitterness out of her voice when speaking of her children’s father. He sighed, looking out the window into Rob’s back garden. “I’m just ready to get it done. I wish it was already determined, like yours, Ches. It’s hard to know what I should be offering her.”

Chester made a face. “I wasn’t going to lose everything again, the way I did with Sam. It’s all written out in the pre-nup, T’s getting half of our current assets, and that’s it. No support, no royalties, done. Hell, if she can’t make it on fifteen million, I can’t help her.” Realizing how harsh he sounded, he added, “it’s more than enough. People all over the world make it on a whole lot less.” He took a bite of the quiche and squeezed his eyes shut. “God, Bourdie, this is fucking delicious,” he said around a mouthful of food. “Especially for someone who doesn’t eat meat. Glad you’re breaking the rules for us. Bacon is so worth it.”

Mike smiled and picked up his fork for an experimental bite. “Who knew you could actually cook?” The quiche was good, and Mike approved of the inclusion of bacon very much. They all ate in comfortable silence for a while, Rob discreetly picking around bacon pieces, before Mike said, “should I just offer her half then? Just straight up one half of our assets, no future payments, like you?” He raised his eyebrows as he looked at Chester.

Rob blew out a sharp, astonished breath. “Damn, you guys, that’s so much money.”

Ignoring Rob, Chester looked pointedly at Mike. “You want it over with quick? Then yeah, I’d think half is the way to go. Who would say no to that? Do you think she’d be so greedy as to want more than that?” Chester pointed his fork at Mike. “You know she’s got grounds for half, you guys have been together since before we made it big, so there’s no reason not to just be a man and give it to her without a fight.” 

“It _is_ a fucking lot of money,” Mike agreed with Rob, who looked amazed that both of his friends were so casually discussing giving half their net worth to their wives. “But I don’t care about the money. Who could even spend all the money we have? It’s not like any of us are out living some extravagant rock star life, you know. What are you going to do with all of yours, Bourdie? Where’s that money going to go when you die? The money doesn’t mean shit to me. The only thing I care about is my kids. I want her to be fair about the kids. If I can make it to where she doesn’t have to work a day in her life, she can let me have my kids when I want them.”

“I think that’s where you’re in for a fight,” Chester said. “Anna doesn’t seem to want to let them out of her sight.”

“I think it’s because she can’t wrap her head around you guys being… bisexual,” Rob ended carefully.

Bisexual was the correct word, right? Mike wasn’t sure. He’d never been attracted to men, just Chester. Only Chester. He hadn’t given any thought at all to what was happening when Chester kissed him the first time in that hotel room in Birmingham three months ago. He hadn’t been responding to Chester as a man, just as a spirit he was drawn to… a soulmate, as Mike had been apt to think of him ever since that first night. He was pulled toward Chester more forcefully than he’d been pulled toward anyone else in his life, and sexuality had never crossed his mind. Of course he’d thought all along about societal norms and expectations, but more in terms of the fact that they were both married, not because they were both men. Somehow he thought that he and Chester were beyond a label. 

Chester cocked his head to the side, the last forkful of quiche disappearing into his mouth. “Yeah, I think that’s T’s problem too. I honestly think she’d be less upset if I’d left her for another woman.”

The casual tone of Chester’s voice cause Mike’s stomach to turn. _Pre-nups. Other women? He doesn’t mean that, does he? I mean, I know he was with Talinda before he and Sam were through, but… this is different, right? He’s not going to leave me, too, will he? Oh, God, what would I do if he left me_? He set his fork down and stood up suddenly, excusing himself and making his way back to the bedroom to lay down for a minute. He felt clammy. Surely he wasn’t going to be sick, he hated getting sick, and it was all ridiculous anyway. He and Chester had promised each other, they had committed to each other, upended their lives for each other, there’s no way Chester would leave him. He was taking slow, deep breaths and counting backwards when he saw Chester out of the corner of his eye, hesitating in the doorway of the bedroom.

“What happened?” Chester asked, resting his hand on the doorframe and looking at Mike, who seemed paler than normal. “Mikey?”

Taking another deep breath, Mike exhaled slowly before he answered, “I just… I’m just finding new things to worry about, that’s all. Everyday some new bit of reality seems to slap me in the face and… I just get myself all anxious over dumb shit.” He turned his head and looked at Chester, who had moved to sit beside him on the bed, extending his arm and placing his hand on Mike’s stomach. He covered Chester’s hand with his own and sighed again. “It was just the way you mentioned leaving T for another woman, and I thought, this is the second time you’ve left a marriage for someone else. What’s going to stop you from leaving me?” His dark eyes looked up to find Chester’s, silently pleading with him for reassurance. Lack of loyalty to him was not something Mike had ever feared with Chester. Chester had been fiercely loyal to both him and the band from the very beginning, but so much more was riding on his loyalty now than ever before. 

Chester ran his free hand over the top of his head with a troubled look on his face. “Jesus, Mike, do you really think I would leave you? There’s no way I would put us through all of this if I wasn’t sure.” Biting his bottom lip, he looked away, down at the mossy green duvet cover under Mike’s back, considering his next words. “Mikey… I told you, before this even started, that if I said yes to you, I’d be saying yes to forever. _Forever_ , and I mean it. There’s only you, now, Mike. Do you know how good it is to not deny how I feel about you any longer? I’ve loved you since the moment I laid eyes on you. Well, maybe that wasn’t _love_ ,” he grinned at Mike, who was still looking at him hopefully, “maybe that was lust. But it grew into _this_ , and now that we’ve chosen this path together, there’s no going back. You have to believe me when I say, there’s only you, now.”

He leaned forward and placed a gentle kiss on Mike’s forehead, but as he pulled away, Mike caught him by the back of the neck and pulled him down, flush against him and with desperation, rolling Chester onto his back and covering the vocalist’s body with his own. “I love you, Chester, and nobody is going to get in the way of that. Not now, not ever. Six months is a long time to wait for this to all be over, but when it’s done, when we’ve both got divorce papers in our hands, and there’s nothing in the way of us being together, you’re going to be mine.”

“I’m already yours,” Chester responded breathily, parting his thighs for Mike to settle between them. He felt the hardness through Mike’s boxers and a devilish smile crossed his face as he stroked along Mike’s back. “We can’t… do this right now… Bourdie’s downstairs and the door is open…” Even with those words coming out of his mouth, Chester was pulling Mike into him, arching his back and pressing their bodies together willingly. 

“I don’t give a fuck about either of those things,” Mike growled, attacking Chester’s neck with not so gentle kisses. “I want you. I want to lose myself inside of you and not think about anything else going on right now, just you and me.” He bit down on Chester’s collarbone and smiled at the gasp he heard from the other man. “Don’t tell me you don’t want it too. I can feel you,” he husked, pushing his hips down into Chester’s.

“It’s not about that,” Chester moaned helplessly, “but he’s going to _hear us_.”

“So? I need you. I need to know you’re mine.” He lifted up to look at Chester, his eyes blazing with a combination of desire and desperation. “ _I need you._ ”

Mike’s hands were making their way up underneath Chester’s shirt, urgently feeling along his sides, across his stomach, upwards toward his nipples, tweaking them between his thumb and forefinger, Chester squirming under his touch and half-heartedly trying to push his hands away, when Rob cleared his throat from the hallway. Both Mike and Chester’s heads turned to the door, lips swollen from frantic kisses, Mike with a guilty look on his face, Chester grinning ear to ear at Rob’s discomfort.

“Um… you guys… I… um… I’m heading out for a while…”

“Oh, we’ll miss you, Bourdie,” Chester chirped from his position under Mike, and Mike turned back to Chester, burying his face in Chester’s neck, laughing at the look of horror on Rob’s face before he turned away.

“At least pull the duvet back,” Rob’s voice was fading as he went down the hallway, “it was expensive…”

“We’ll just buy him a new one,” Mike mumbled into Chester’s skin as he pulled Chester back close to him, the sound of the front door closing echoing through the house.


	30. Expensive

“So, just to be clear I’m understanding, Mr. Shinoda, you’re proposing as settlement that Mrs. Shinoda acquire one-half of your estate?” The lawyer peered at Mike quizzically over the top of his glasses after he glanced at the paperwork Mike had given him.

Mike fidgeted with his watch, turning it on his wrist as he spoke. “Mr. Boyd, I want this handled as quickly and quietly as possible, as I stated before. Mrs. Shinoda isn’t at fault, and I see no reason to fight what will likely inevitably be decided by the courts anyway. California is a community property state, correct?”

“Yes, it is, but… your estate is rather sizable and spread between many different interests. Is your proposal on how to divide these assets included in the paperwork you’ve given me? Have you given any thought as to how to split your non-liquid assets?”

“I’ve outlined all the accounts and business ventures in the paperwork,” Mike waved his hand toward the papers the lawyer had in his hand, “and what I think works out to the best way to split things between us. I’m not sure how things like royalties work… obviously, she’s been with me since the beginning of my career, I’m not going to fight it if she gets a percentage there, too. I’m honestly just wanting this to be as easy and painless as possible.” Mike sighed and then frowned, trying to stay focused on what really mattered. _The money doesn’t matter. The kids matter. Just my kids. Only my kids._ “I want her to stay in the house, as well. It’s all my kids have known their whole lives. I think there’s enough change without me moving them now.”

He swallowed hard as he thought of the home studio he’d spent years perfecting, the tiny vocal booth in the converted hallway that had recorded so many of his and Chester’s vocals, the hours spent singing, playing, laughing, working, and mixing in that room… it would be hard to leave that behind, far harder than walking away from the rest of the house. There were so many memories of Chester in that room. _It’s time to make new memories. I promised him the best studio we could build. I’ll make the next one even better. It will all be okay._ He smiled a little as he said Chester’s often repeated words to himself.

There was silence as Mr. Boyd scanned through the documents Mike had given him, then he said, “I see you’ve included a proposed custody agreement.”

“As you’re aware my… _work_ … schedule provides cause for our custody agreement to be more flexible than the standard agreement. I feel that this will likely be what we disagree over, Mr. Boyd, so I’m asking you to focus your efforts toward ensuring I get equal time with my kids. The money, the property… is not a concern. I just want to be able to see my children as much as possible when I’m not touring. I’d like to propose a week on, week off agreement, with the children staying with Mrs. Shinoda while I’m engaged with work.” 

Mike waited while this very important, high-profile lawyer that had been recommended to him thought over what he’d just said. _He’s probably not used to people telling him what he should be doing. Hah… I’m not like everyone else. He probably thinks I’m crazy. He’s probably used to people trying to divorce with the least amount of expense they can get away with. I’m better than that. I’m doing the right thing._

Mr. Boyd cleared his throat before stating, “very well, Mr. Shinoda, I’ll write everything up and pass it on to Mrs. Shinoda’s lawyer. It will likely be a few days before they come back with a counter proposal. In the interim, I suggest you continue to keep your _activities_ out of the public eye. I’ll do my best to get the terms negotiated as you desire.” 

Their brief meeting was coming to an end, and Mike flicked his eyes to his watch. There was still plenty of time before he was meant to meet up with Brad for lunch.

As an afterthought, the lawyer continued, “Also, the earliest court date we’ll have to finalize everything- _if an agreement is reached_ \- is the second week of March, so you might want to be certain you’re available the entire month… just in case. I would advise you not to schedule any out of town trips during that time.”

Mike stood at the same time as Mr. Boyd, extending his hand for a brisk handshake, “of course, Mr. Boyd. You know how to reach me.” 

**********

The stop he’d made at a local art supply store had taken longer than he anticipated, and when Mike entered the hole in the wall Chinese restaurant that the two of them loved to meet at, Brad was already waiting. _So much for having enough time_ , he thought, sliding into the seat opposite his friend.

“Sorry I’m late,” he started with an apology, holding up his bag, “I made a stop that took longer than expected. I didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

Brad dismissed his apology with a smile. “No worries, I haven’t been here long. What’s in the bag?” He adjusted his glasses on his nose for a better look.

“Ah, just some new paint. I managed to get some of my stuff out of the studio last week when Anna let me see the kids, but there were some colors I needed that I had run out of.” He shrugged. “Just trying to keep my mind occupied for the next ten days before we start up again.” Mike settled the bag on the chair next to him and instructed, “don’t let me leave that here. It’s expensive paint.”

Brad snorted. “Expensive paint? I think that’s the first time I’ve heard you remark about the cost of anything in at least ten years.” 

“Yeah, well…” Mike reached for a menu even though he already knew what he wanted. “Things are changing, you know.”

They both scanned the menu for a moment, both settling reassuringly on the same items they always ordered, before Brad asked, “so… how’s all that going?”

Mike sighed, twisting his watch around again. He’d never noticed that he twisted his wedding ring when he was anxious until it was no longer there to twist. “It’s… going, I guess. Everything seems to be happening so fast, but also so slow at the same time.” He looked around at the other patrons in the restaurant, who didn’t seem to care that they were there, but lowered his voice anyway before continuing, “I mean, it’s only the beginning of October, and Chester and I have only been together for three months, and I’m already in the middle of all of this divorce stuff, and yet it’s still months away from being done.” A frustrated look came over his face as he looked at Brad, who had leaned closer across the table to hear better when Mike dropped his voice. “It’s all so bizzare. If you had asked me at the start of the summer what my life would be like at the end of this tour cycle, I certainly wouldn’t have predicted this.”

“Life has a way of just going sideways on you when you least expect it, I suppose,” Brad offered, nodding his head thoughtfully. “I never thought you guys would end up together, either.” Mike raised an eyebrow in question, and Brad hastened to add, “I don’t mean because I don’t think you’re good for each other, or anything… I just didn’t think Chester would… commit to you the way he has.” He looked away from Mike, feeling guilty for voicing his apprehension about Chester’s intentions aloud.

 _What’s that supposed to mean?_ The frown etched into Mike’s features had Brad scrambling for further explanation.

“Mike, I just meant that Chester feels so passionately about so many things… he’s always had a thing for you, I’ve known that right from the beginning… I just figured that after so many years of inaction on his part, you guys would never become a reality. He always said he’d never get divorced again, and you and Anna… I mean, you’ve always had the perfect marriage, you know?” 

The waitress interrupted them then, taking their order before disappearing again, and Mike turned back to Brad, his eyes dreamy. “Yeah, I suppose we did have the perfect marriage… but I never realized what I was missing until the first time Chester kissed me.” 

A faint blush crept up Brad’s cheeks as he contemplated Mike’s words, the tenderness in his voice, the look in his eyes… it looked like love for certain, and Brad was skating a thin line between jealousy and happiness for his oldest friend. 

“It was the last piece of the puzzle, you know? That thing I’d been craving for years but couldn’t put a name to what it was… that first kiss, it just felt like everything came into focus, it was the one aspect of us that I’d been secretly wanting, and-” Mike stopped, his eyes focusing in on Brad’s face. “Sorry… I guess I’m getting a little carried away.”

“No, no, that’s not it,” Brad said, reaching across the table and stilling Mike’s hand on his watch. 

Mike looked down at Brad’s hand on his, covering his wrist, and felt the tension between them. _I don’t know where all of this is coming from lately. It’s like me being with Chester has made him question his own choices. I love Brad, but…_ He looked up, catching Brad’s eyes again, not moving his hand away from the guitarist’s grip. 

“I’m happy for you Mike, I am,” Brad said in a tight voice. “It _is_ a little hard to listen to. You know… I’ve always loved you, Mike. You’ve always had a part of my heart.” He shifted in his chair, not letting go of Mike’s wrist just yet, looking a little embarrassed. “I just don’t want to see you get hurt. I don’t want you to be just another person in the line of Chester’s relationships. That’s what I was trying to tell you when I told you to break it off before, weeks ago. I just.. I remember how it was when I…” he glanced down at their hands, and squeezed Mike’s wrist before retreating. “When I wouldn’t take that next step with you, and you were so hurt… and what we had back then is nothing like what I see between you and Chester… I’m just worried about you, Mike. It’s all so fast. That’s all.”

It wasn’t a surprise, but Mike still let out a long sigh, contemplating Brad’s words. “Chester and I have had several discussions about… loyalty… but I have to say this, Brad… Chester has never _once_ given me a reason to doubt his loyalty to me. Not once. None of you guys have.” He moved his napkin to his lap as the waitress reappeared, setting a tray with their dishes to the side of the table. “That’s what has made the six of us work for as long as we have. You know most people in this business don’t stay together as long as we have. And we’re all still friends! Chester and I being together isn’t going to change that. If anything, it makes the bonds stronger,” Mike said confidently. 

Two plates were set in front of them, and they both began eating while the conversation swirled around in both of their heads. A few silent minutes passed before Brad suddenly asked “does Chester know about us?” 

It was blunt. Emotionless. Curious. This time, Mike was surprised by the question. He shook his head, a mouthful of noodles obstructing his words. “No! No, of course not. God. I don’t want to know about every person he’s had sex with, and there’s never been any reason to bring up what happened between us, either.”

“We never had sex,” Brad pointed out.

Mike rolled his eyes. “I _know_ that, Bradford. All I’m saying is… there’s a lot in Chester’s past he doesn’t want to talk about. I’m well aware that my relationship past is nowhere near as complicated as his… but there’s just this unspoken agreement between us. The past is just that. The past. None of that matters in our future. And honestly, I don’t need to know about any of it. I know enough to know that. Not that it would change how I feel about him,” he was quick to add. “But… Brad,” he went on, carefully, “I don’t _want_ Chester to know about us. It was so long ago… there’s no reason to bring that out now, not after all these years. It’s in the past,” he said firmly. Mike paused, then asked, “right?”

He could swear there was something in Brad’s eyes then, just as there was that night in the hotel after he kissed Chester on stage. Something Mike hadn’t seen there in years, something Brad had kept carefully hidden for decades. Just as it flashed in his eyes, it was gone, and Mike thought maybe he imagined it. “Yes. It’s in the past, Mike. I just… be careful. Promise me, you’ll talk to me if you need to… if you need someone else.”

Swallowing hard, Mike nodded his head. “Of course I will. Thanks for always being there, Brad. It means a lot.” They chewed in silence a while longer, before Mike turned the conversation to the upcoming west coast shows. Business dictated the rest of their conversation, until Mike felt a vibration in his pocket. Pulling out his phone, he skimmed the text message before a huge Shinoda grin came over his face.

“What’s up?” Brad asked, “Chester? I know you don’t smile that big when I text,” he teased.

“Yeah. Hey, you should come back to Rob’s with me. Talinda’s let him bring the kids over for the afternoon. Apparently we are now grilling for dinner. I’m sure Bourdie’s thrilled at the prospect of us firing up a ton of meat in the backyard.” He flicked his eyes up to Brad’s as he texted Chester back. “I’m sure you guys can make a salad or something. He’ll be glad to have someone else around to make fun of our eating habits with.”

“I didn’t know Bourdie even owned a grill,” Brad said, folding his napkin carefully and placing it next to his empty plate. “Let me call Elisa. I’ll see if Dave and Joe can get away, too. They’ll eat hotdogs with you guys.”

Mike nodded, already making a mental list of items he needed from the grocery before returning to Rob’s house, absently standing and starting toward the door of the Chinese restaurant, eager to get back to Chester and see the kids.

“Oh, hey, don’t forget your paint,” Brad reminded him, pointing at the chair next to Mike.

Placing the phone to his ear to call Chester, Mike nodded at Brad as he turned and grabbed the bag before they walked out. “Expensive paint,” he corrected with a smile.


	31. Popsicles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> From album liner notes I have deduced that Mike’s girls have the initials A and J-- so, for the purpose of my fic, their given names are Abigail and Josephine, at times to be called Abi and Jo.

Mike walked into a completely different scene than he’d left at Rob’s that morning. Two pairs of pink sneakers cluttered the entry way, along with a backpack he hadn’t seen before. He stepped over the shoes and made his way into the kitchen, carrying several bags of all the things Chester ‘just had to have’ for his impromptu backyard dinner party. Setting the bags on the bar, he took his sunglasses off and set them down next to his wallet and keys, then opened the freezer and stuck one of the bags inside.

“I thought you guys were having hot dogs?” Rob asked as he lifted ground meat from the grocery bag, grimacing at the red meat in his hand. 

“Yeah, what happened to hot dogs?” Joe asked as he grabbed the Doritos from a different bag and popped them open, grabbing a handful. “Brad said hot dogs.”

Mike shrugged. “Brad _assumed_ hot dogs. I never said hot dogs. Chester said the kids wanted burgers.” He looked out the window into the back garden where Chester was blowing bubbles for Lily and Lila. He couldn’t help but smile at the sight of Chester, shirtless, with an apron tied around him, bringing the soapy wand up to his lips and blowing bubbles out so delicately. The juxtaposition of bubbles and tattoos was just too amusing. “Did Dave make it over?”

“Yeah, he’s playing basketball with Tyler,” Joe said around a mouthful of chips.

“Basketball!” Mike exclaimed, “it’s been a while. Maybe later I can kick your ass again for the millionth time, Hahn.” He turned back to Rob’s stainless steel refrigerator and tossed in a package of cheese and a head of lettuce. 

“You talking about on xbox?” Joe started to stand in anticipation of starting the game.

“Hell no, I’m talking the real deal!” Mike rolled his eyes at the deejay and mimicked a dribble and fadeaway shot at an imaginary basket. 

Joe frowned as he sat back on the barstool, taking another handful of chips. “I suck at real basketball.” 

“C’mon, I’ll go easy on you,” Mike tried as Joe shook his head, and Mike gave up, laughing at him. “Fine, I’ll get Chester to play me later.”

Before Joe could make the crass comment on the tip of his tongue, Brad came in the kitchen, making a face at the hamburger meat. “Gross. You guys and your bloody animals,” he said, scooting around Rob’s outstretched hand and opening the refrigerator, reaching in before he paused, “no beer tonight, right?”

“Right,” Mike confirmed simply, and Brad pulled out two bottles of some green tea concoction he and Rob were fond of drinking, tossing one over to Rob. It was Mike’s turn to make a face. “Ugh. That stuff is so gross.” 

“Different strokes,” Brad said, untwisting the top and drinking half the bottle in one go. “I’m not touching that meat, I hope you’ve got something else for us to eat, Bourdie.”

Before he could hear Rob’s response, Mike was already on his way through the back door to tell Chester he was back and ask him if he wanted to come and make the burgers, or if he wanted Mike to do it. He knew Chester would want to make them, since he claimed Mike’s patty making skills were subpar. Mike doubted that but always let Chester make them anyway. It was the way it had always been. As soon as he stepped outside, Lily came running to him.

“Uncle Mike!” she exclaimed, wrapping her skinny little arms around his legs and looking up at him with adoration. Lila wasn’t far behind, and Mike knelt down to gather them both into his arms. 

“Hey, little ladies,” he said softly, resting his cheek first against the top of Lily’s head, then Lila’s. Kissing the tops of both their heads, he looked up and caught Chester’s expression, whose eyes were full of tenderness and love. They smiled at each other, and Mike squeezed the girls close to him before releasing them both and standing up, pointing at Chester’s apron. “Nice apron.” 

Chester grinned and watched as the girls scrambled off to tell their brother that Uncle Mike was there. “Didn’t want anything to splatter on me while I was grilling, you know.”

“Seems you could have just put on a shirt,” Mike chuckled and shook his head, a giant smile on his face. “You look happy, Ches. I’m glad the kids are here.”

“Me, too,” Chester agreed. “Want me to come make up the burgers?”

“Yeah, you better hurry before Bourdie or Brad vomits. Neither of them can handle the sight of uncooked meat.” Mike rolled his eyes. “I’m gonna go see if Ty’s beating Dave or not.” Their eyes met and both men glanced around before Chester landed a quick kiss on Mike’s lips, the thrill of not being seen but potentially being caught igniting the air between them. Mike groaned softly and tapped Chester’s ass as the vocalist moved toward the kitchen door, huskily calling after him, “just wait, Ches… later…”

“I’m counting on it, ‘Noda,” was the response he got from Chester’s retreating form, and he smiled again before he started toward the driveway, where he could hear Dave and Tyler wrapped up in their game, the girls cheering them on. It was in that moment that shattering sadness came over him swiftly, as he listened to Chester’s little girls cheering their brother on, and he stopped, taking a deep breath. _God, I miss my kids. I wish Anna would let them come over here. They’ve known Chester their whole lives, it’s not like seeing us together is going to traumatize them._ He frowned, the light mood from seconds earlier gone, his thoughts full of his own children, wondering what they were doing right at that same moment. _It’s just not fair._

Mike loved Chester’s kids, all of them, had been there for the births of four of them, had held them as infants, diapered and fed them, taken shifts when the twins were born, and spent hours with them ever since; but loving Chester’s children didn’t make up for the fact that his own were conspicuously absent from his life at the moment. _I’m going to try to talk to her again. Maybe she’ll hear me out this time. If Talinda’s doing it… maybe she’ll listen. We leave again in a week and a half. I want to see them more before we go._ He stopped before he got around the side of the house to the driveway, and turned back. He didn’t think he could fake a smile for the sake of Chester’s kids right then, and Dave would notice and start questioning him, and it would ruin the evening. He stopped at the patio and looked at the built-in grill, feeling relatively certain it had never been used. Oh well, they were going to change that tonight.

As he was adjusting knobs and getting things going, Mike heard Chester’s loud exclamation from inside. It was his cue to go rescue him from whatever was going on inside the house. He stepped inside just in time to see Brad’s hands over his ears, Chester’s head thrown back in a laugh, and Joe’s face lit up in anticipation as he asked what looked to be another question.

“So… who’s on top?” 

“Jesus, Joe!” Mike exclaimed, his face turning a deep red as he smacked Joe on the back of the head. “We are not having this discussion!”

“Oh, that means it’s Chester, isn’t it?” Joe prodded as Brad kicked at his leg with one foot, still holding his hands over his ears.

“Damnit, Joe, shut up!” Brad said, shaking his head as though it would rid his brain of the question.

Chester just laughed, his hands in the bowl of meat as he separated it into appropriate portions before patting it out into flat, burgeresque discs. “I swear, I don’t know how we got on this topic,” he said, looking at Mike with amusement. 

“Well, we’re not talking about this with kids around.” Mike glared at Joe, who just shrugged one shoulder and held out the empty Dorito bag. “Sorry, man, they’re all gone.” 

Rolling his eyes, Mike grabbed the bag and tossed it in the garbage before tapping Brad’s arm and motioning his hands away from his ears. “It’s all safe now, Braddles. No more sex talk. The kids and all-” 

“Oooh, what’s that?” Chester interrupted, nodding his head toward the bag of paint sitting on the bar, the bag Mike had brought in with the groceries and then forgotten about.

The blush that had started to fade crept back over Mike’s skin as he looked at the bag. “Paint. Just some colors I was missing. You know… for the landscape I’m going to paint.”

Chester cocked an eyebrow his way. “Landscape? When did you start painting landscapes?” he asked with a smile in his voice.

 _Stop fucking teasing me, Bennington, you know why I bought paint_ , Mike thought before he answered, “I paint all kinds of stuff, you know that. I thought it would be relaxing, you know, something to do before we leave out on tour again.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” Chester voiced in a sing-song tone, walking his meat bowl to the sink and washing his hands. “I can’t wait to see your… _landscape_ ,” he said, his voice saccharine as his eyebrows waggled.

“Oh, God, don’t tell me you’re going to paint Chester,” Rob choked on his green tea as Chester’s tone and suggestive face registered. “I mean, seriously. I’m pretty open minded about things but I don’t think I want to walk by your room and see that.” 

“Jesus, do we have _no_ privacy anymore?” Mike whined as Chester offered, “We’ll shut the door this time.” Chester laughed at both Mike’s look of horror and the blush on Rob’s face when he referenced the morning last week that Rob had walked in their bedroom to accidentally see Mike on top of Chester. He’d been teasing the drummer ever since.

“Wait, you’ve _seen_ them?” Joe exclaimed.

“No!” three voices yelled at the same time. Then Rob said, “you’re a damn pervert, Hahn!”

“That’s old news,” Brad said, nudging Joe with his foot again. “Remember all the porn he used to bring on the bus?”

“Yeah, porn that you borrowed, Brad!” 

“Whatever, man!”

The jabs had shifted to Joe, and Mike was grateful. There was entirely too much talk about his sex life happening this evening for his personal taste. Chester on the other hand didn’t seem to be bothered in the least. _Of course not. I should have known that once the guys were in on our relationship, I’d never hear the end of it. Joe can’t hardly keep from asking for details, damn him. They’re all too fucking curious!_ Mike shook his head at his own thoughts, annoyed with everyone. “I got the grill fired up for you, Ches.”

Picking up the plate of uncooked burgers, Chester headed toward the grill with a little extra swagger in his step, but not after passing the plate dangerously close to Brad, whose face looked a little green at the little discs of raw meat so close to him. “Gross,” he said again, turning his face away as Chester laughed and disappeared outside, calling for his kids to come help. 

Mike rolled his eyes for what seemed like the hundredth time in an hour, this time at Brad. “A little meat wouldn’t hurt you, Brad.” Joe burst out in uncontrollable laughter and Mike grew frustrated all over again. “I swear, it’s like hanging out with a bunch of teenagers,” he fussed, throwing up his hands in mock despair.

“What’s happening in here?” Dave asked as he walked through the open door, leaving Chester outside explaining when to flip the burgers to Tyler, the girls blowing bubbles for each other again. “I just got my ass kicked by an eleven year old.”

“Sure you did. Did you let him win again?” Rob asked seriously. “You know you aren’t supposed to do that. Kids should experience losing sometimes.” All heads turned to Rob, the only childless one in the bunch. “What? I mean, I heard that, about kids…”

“Bourdie, you would have been a total hard ass as a dad,” Dave said with humor in his voice. “Sometimes you just gotta build them up, you know?”

“Says the father of three girls,” Mike pointed out, “they’ve got you wrapped around their little fingers, and you know it.”

Smiling, Dave threw back a glass of water before he said, “yeah, and Abi and Jo have got you the same way.”

“Yeah… yeah, they do,” Mike bit his lip as he thought of his little girls again, feeling that same wave of sadness he’d felt earlier. 

“Damn, I’m sorry, Mike,” Dave mumbled quietly, dropping a reassuring hand on his shoulder for a sympathetic squeeze. “I shouldn’t have-”

“No, it’s okay,” Mike interrupted, patting Dave’s hand and moving away to slice a tomato. “It’s all part of the package deal right now, right? Being away from my kids is just one of those things that sucks right now, but we’ll get it worked out. I mean, she can’t keep them away from me, or from knowing about me and Chester, forever.” He looked up to see Joe reaching for another bag of chips and swatted his hand away with the hand that wasn’t holding the knife. “Stop it, you’ll ruin your appetite.”

“Okay, _mom_ ,” Joe said. Then, under his breath added, “I knew you were on bottom.”

Dave’s eyes got big before he burst out laughing, and Mike threw the second bag of Doritos at Joe’s face. “Just eat the damn things if it will keep you quiet! Maybe try saving a few for the kids?”

“I make no promises,” Joe said, taking the bag and sliding off the barstool, heading outside to check the burger’s progress. “How much longer, Chester?” he called, and Mike turned back to Dave.

“I finally took the proposed settlement to my lawyer this morning. We’ll see what happens.”

Rob perked up at the new subject matter, but Brad had already heard it all. “I’ll be outside if you need me.”

“What did you decide on?” Rob asked, taking down a stack of plates from the cabinet and setting them on the bar. “A few days ago you were talking about giving her half of everything.”

Dave drew in a sharp breath. “Half? Damn, Mike… that’s… so much…”

“Yeah,” Mike agreed, starting to slice an onion. “What point is there in fighting over it? We’ve been together since before the band. Think about it, Dave, if you and Linsey split, it would be the same thing. It’s a damn community property state.” He stopped when he realized he sounded like a total asshole. “I mean… it’s just money, you know? And she didn’t do anything wrong, so why jerk her around? I just want to get it over with.”

Both Rob and Dave nodded their heads, and then Dave asked, “doesn’t seem like she’s being very nice about it all. I mean, she can’t really keep you from seeing your own kids.”

Mike sighed. “I’m just trying to do what she wants right now. I want her to agree to everything. I want to keep it out of the tabloids.” He moved the sliced onion next to the tomato and set down the knife. “Maybe once she gets the proposal from my lawyer, she’ll see I’m not going to be an ass about it and relax a little bit.”

“Burgers are done!” Chester yelled from the patio.

“He’s so fucking loud,” Dave said, and they all laughed.

“That’s just Chester’s regular voice,” Rob commented. 

Smiling to himself, Mike said nothing. _If you guys only knew what his regular voice sounded like when we’re alone._ It was a naughty thought to have and he surprised himself, admonishing himself for always being horny for the vocalist. He rinsed his hands and picked up a towel as Chester came inside, trailing kids behind, a plate with a stack of burgers in his hand. “Let’s eat,” he said, smiling as Chester discarded the apron and leaned across him, his side brushing against Mike’s arm. _Yep. Always horny for him._ Mike caught himself before he leaned in closer, but Chester had registered the movement and winked at Mike. _Ha, he wants it too. Glad it’s not just me._

There was a flurry of activity as both Mike and Chester helped the girls assemble their burgers, and everyone settled down outside to enjoy the weather, and each other’s conversation, which thankfully remained g-rated in the presence of children. As Joe polished off his second burger, Chester looked over at Mike. “Did you get the dessert they asked for?” motioning to the twins. Mike nodded and Chester beamed. “Great! I’ll be right back.”

He came back out on the patio and both girls squealed at the same time, “popsicles! Oh, thank you, Daddy!”

“Popsicles?” Joe looked up from his plate, wiping his mouth on the back of his hand.

“For the kids, Joe… for the kids,” Mike said with a grin. 

Chester handed grape popsicles to Lily and Lila, and an orange one to Tyler. “Do you want one?” he asked Joe, his face completely serious.

“Yep. I want grape,” the deejay said, reaching out for his treat. “I haven’t had a popsicle in ages.”

“That’s surprising, as much as you eat,” Dave teased, earning himself a glare as Joe tore open the package.

“Whatever. Maybe you all should all have one,” Joe said. “You didn’t know you wanted one until Chester brought them out here, now you’ll be thinking about popsicles the rest of the night if you don’t get one. I guarantee it.”

Rob was the first to cave. “Ok, I’ll take cherry.”

Chester’s face broke out in a grin and he looked around the circle. “Who else?”

“Grape,” Dave said, reaching for his.

Brad sighed as though he were being forced into manual labor or something that would take an equal amount of effort. “Lime.”

“Ew, lime??” Chester dug into the box, looking for the offending flavor. “Nobody likes lime.”

“Obviously someone likes lime or they wouldn’t make them, asshole,” Brad said as Chester held out the popsicle.

“Asshole,” Lila repeated, grinning at her dad.

“Damnit, Brad,” Chester complained. 

“Whatever, Chester, her third word as a baby was fuck.”

Chester shrugged and proclaimed proudly, “well, her dad _is_ the great Chester fucking Bennington.”

“Tone down the ego a bit,” Mike laughed, before he said, “cherry for me.” It came out lower and huskier than he’d planned, and his bandmates eyes all turned to him as he flushed red for at least the third time that night. Chester walked over and stood between Mike’s knees, their skin barely touching, and handed him the red popsicle.

“Cherry _is_ the best,” Chester said in the same tone, clearly not giving a fuck about what their bandmates thought. “I think I’ll have cherry, too.”

Mike just nodded, thinking about a cherry popsicle in Chester’s hot little mouth, wishing he could take the vocalist upstairs right then and drag that cherry popsicle down his body, and then lick it up before he fucked him into the new duvet cover they’d bought to replace the one they’d already ruined. He looked up and saw that devilish smile of Chester’s that he loved as he slowly turned and took the rest of the box of popsicles back inside to the freezer, knowing that Mike’s eyes were following him. 

He came back outside and sat directly across from Mike, enjoying his popsicle more than anyone had a right to enjoy a popsicle. Mike shifted uncomfortably in his seat, but he couldn’t take his eyes off Chester, even as the conversation continued around him. It was as if the entire world had narrowed to focus just on Chester’s mouth and lips and red popsicle. 

“Mike. MIKE. Jesus, man, you okay?” Brad said irritably, and Mike snapped his attention to Brad.

“What?”

“Your popsicle. It’s dripping on your shirt.” 

Brad pointed at Mike, and he dropped his eyes from Chester’s face to see that his neglected popsicle was indeed dripping on his shirt. “Shit,” he mumbled, standing up and heading for the kitchen to grab a paper towel. He was dabbing at the spot with water when he felt Chester behind him.

“Need help?” he breathed into Mike’s ear.

“Damn, Chester, no, I’ve got it… and your kids are right outside…”

“Nobody’s looking,” Chester said. “I saw you watching me. You were wishing you were that popsicle, weren’t you, Mikey?”

Mike groaned softly, turning to face Chester. “Stop, Ches… not right now. Later.” He slid along the counter, away from the heat of Chester’s body. “Besides, aren’t you supposed to be taking them back soon?”

Chester sighed and looked toward the patio. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m supposed to have them back in time for T to do their regular night time routine, baths and all that. I guess we should probably head back.” He looked at Mike, and flicked his tongue out to taste the sticky corner of his mouth as Mike watched. “It’s a shame, really. You and cherry seems like such a good combination.”

Mike covered his face with one hand and waved Chester on with the other. “Go on, Ches, before I drag you up these stairs.”

“Later,” Chester said, echoing Mike’s words from earlier in the evening.

“Yes,” Mike agreed, wishing later were right now. He watched as Chester collected his children from the patio, wiping down sticky fingers and mouths with wet paper towels, instructing them to put on their shoes, and the desire he felt softened into admiration, watching his love so sweetly and patiently attending to his kids. _He’s such a great dad_ , Mike thought. _I need to be sure I tell him that later. Mmmmm… later…_ Mike couldn’t wait for later.

**********

Everyone said their goodbyes and left when Chester left to return the kids to Talinda, so Mike set about cleaning up the mess they’d made in Rob’s kitchen, refusing to let him help. Rob had then decided he was going to turn in for the night, disappearing upstairs and leaving Mike alone with his cleaning and his thoughts. He had just finished spraying down the countertops when Chester came back from dropping off the kids, his movements relaxed and easy, a smile on his face. 

“Hey, my love. Where’s Bourdie?” he asked, looking around the downstairs.

“He went up already, said he was going to write or something for a while,” Mike said, making one last swipe at the already clean counter. “I wonder what he’s writing,” he mused.

“He probably keeps a diary,” Chester joked, moving closer to Mike, placing his hands on Mike’s hips. “It’s later,” he whispered against Mike’s ear.

The desire from earlier was instantly back full force, Mike visualizing the cherry popsicle in Chester’s mouth, the sticky sweetness on his lips, imagining the contrast of coldness and warmth on his tongue. “Yes, it is later,” he agreed, turning to pull Chester in for a passionate kiss against the hard, cold countertop.

It had been a long day of putting off their need for each other, and Chester was not going to play any more games. He pulled out of Mike’s grasp, breathless, whispering “don’t forget your paint,” as he dragged his lips across Mike’s, turning and heading upstairs.

Mike didn’t hesitate, grabbing the bag and following Chester upstairs. About halfway up, he paused, and turned around, heading back into the kitchen. Without flicking on the lights, he opened the freezer and took out the last cherry popsicle. Smiling, he shut the freezer door, tossed the bag of paint on the bar, and headed back upstairs.


	32. Hot and Cold

“Look at what I have,” Mike whispered as he shut and locked the bedroom door behind him. With a face full of anticipation, he held out the popsicle and Chester burst into laughter.

“Seriously?” Chester’s eyes glittered as he looked at the package in Mike’s outstretched hand.

“Seriously,” Mike affirmed, taking a step toward the vocalist. “I couldn’t take my eyes off you earlier, sitting there, with cherry popsicle all over your lips, thinking about your mouth around me…” he leaned in close to Chester and felt the other man shiver in anticipation. “You looked so… fucking… hot…” Grazing his lips along Chester’s jaw, he pulled back and shook the popsicle package again, his voice gritty with desire when he said, “so… you wanna?”

Wordlessly, Chester nodded, and Mike smiled slowly, impressed he’d managed to render the loudest person he knew speechless; he knew it wouldn’t last. “Chester,” he teased, his voice low, “you’re going to have to stay quiet.”

Chester nodded again, watching Mike raptly, completely absorbed in every movement, and Mike knew he had Chester’s full attention. He unwrapped the popsicle and looked at Chester through his lashes before sliding it slowly into his mouth, closing his eyes and savoring the taste. He felt the tingles of arousal moving through his limbs and settling in his groin, and it was all Mike could do to hold back the loud moan that wanted to escape. He’d been restraining himself all damn day. Cracking his eyes open a bit, he looked at Chester and said, “mmmm, you want a lick?” holding out the frozen treat.

Without hesitation, Chester nodded, and Mike took another step toward him, closing the small distance between them, heat radiating off both their bodies. Mike placed the popsicle on Chester’s lips and their eyes locked together as Chester moved his mouth just as slowly down the popsicle and back up, licking his lips. The sexiest smile Mike had ever seen crawled across Chester’s face then, and Mike held the popsicle out to the side, moving close to bring their sticky lips together, pressing his tongue forward and tasting the popsicle on Chester’s tongue, and it was as hot and cold as he thought it would be. Drawing back, he smeared the drippy tip of the popsicle on Chester’s waiting lips and then went back in for another kiss, licking the cherry syrup off with the lightest of pressure. 

He felt Chester’s sigh against his lips and felt his jeans tighten at the sound that escaped with that sigh, and it was impossible to believe that he could get any harder than he already was. When Mike opened his eyes, he was met with Chester’s lustful gaze, his eyes so dark they were almost black, his hands clutching at Mike’s shirt. Hooking a finger in Chester’s waistband, Mike pulled him toward the bed, watching as Chester dropped willingly onto the mattress, waiting for the emcee’s next move.

Eyes on Chester, Mike licked up one side of the dripping popsicle and then the other, moving between Chester’s knees and and gently pushing him onto his back with a palm in the center of his chest and a half smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling suggestively. Kneeling over the vocalist, a very serious look overtaking his face, Mike reached forward and brought the melting popsicle against one of Chester’s nipples, holding it there for a few seconds and watching the pain and pleasure battle across his lover’s face. It was painfully erotic, and Mike thought he might come just watching Chester’s face as he tried to stay silent, his cherry lips parted in a silent ‘oh’, reveling in the way Chester turned his head to the side and exposed his long neck while reaching for Mike, swallowing low moans in his throat. 

“Shhh, Ches, be good,” Mike said as he moved the popsicle and covered the nipple with his mouth, feeling how hard the little bud was between his lips, lapping his tongue in slow circles with steady pressure, and Chester bit his lip, whimpering when Mike placed the popsicle against the other neglected nipple. It was hard not to giggle at Chester’s reaction. The contrast between Mike’s hot mouth and the freezing cold of the popsicle was something Chester hadn’t experienced before, and he didn’t dislike it.

“It’s… so… cold!” Chester panted out as Mike finished warming one nipple and moved to the other. He gasped in delight as Mike’s mouth closed over him, licking off the popsicle. “Here, let me… take off your shirt,” he directed. Chester took the popsicle from Mike’s hand as he sat up, watching the emcee pull his t-shirt off from the neck and toss it to the floor.

Immediately Chester had the popsicle against Mike’s nipple and he hissed out, “fuck, that’s cold,” and Chester smiled wickedly, not backing down, and Mike didn’t move away either. He didn’t know how much longer he could stand it, when Chester moved the popsicle and went in for the attack, his tongue flattening over the hardened nipple, his teeth grazing Mike’s skin. “Fuck,” was the only thing Mike managed to get out, one hand resting on Chester’s shoulder, pulling him closer, the other reaching for his hand and taking the popsicle back between his lips. The look he got from Chester as he went down on the popsicle lit his blood on fire. It was by far the most outlandish, the sexiest foreplay they’d ever engaged in, and Mike wasn’t sure how much longer he could restrain himself. Releasing the popsicle, he pulled Chester up and kissed him deeply again, their tongues battling each other, hot and cold, until they became the same temperature, wet and warm against each other. 

Breaking away, Mike reached down, pulling Chester’s black jeans off and sinking down between his knees, kneeling on the floor in front of the bed, running his fingertips down Chester’s thighs. “Touch yourself with it, follow my hands,” he instructed in a raspy voice, and Chester obliged, leaving a cold, wet, cherry flavored trail on the inside of each thigh, slowly dripping in bright red drops against his perfect white skin. Mike started at one knee, running his hand up the outside of Chester’s leg while licking the syrup up, up, up, pausing as he exhaled near Chester’s boxers and Chester stuck the popsicle in his mouth, stifling a moan, then down the other thigh, smirking at the tremors in Chester’s legs. “God, Ches… you taste amazing,” he breathed over Chester’s wet skin, his dark eyes smoldering as he looked up from his position on the floor. “Cherry-flavored Chester.”

The sight of the popsicle between Chester’s lips almost pushed him over the edge again, but Mike took a deep breath and stood up, unbuckling his belt and sliding it off, dropping it to the floor and unbuttoning his jeans, reaching for Chester’s free hand and placing it on the bulge in the front of the denim, pressing Chester’s hand against him and biting his lip to keep from crying out. Closing his eyes, he spoke low, through gritted teeth, “finish that popsicle, Chester… and then I want your mouth around me.”

Chester’s heavy breathing and the zip of Mike’s jeans were the only sounds Mike could hear as he watched Chester tease him, _that goddam popsicle_ moving in and out of Chester’s mouth even as his eyes promised, ‘I’m going to suck you so good.’

“Hurry, Ches,” Mike pleaded, struggling out of his jeans and boxers, standing naked between Chester’s knees, watching the cherry syrup stain Chester’s lips bright red, impatient. After what seemed like an eternity, the popsicle was gone, and he watched as Chester’s red cherry lips moved forward, taking his impatient, demanding erection between them and into his ice cold mouth.

The sensation was shocking and Mike’s knees buckled, his hands coming forward to brace himself on Chester’s shoulders as he gasped out, Chester’s hands gripping Mike’s hips, his mouth “so… fucking… cold!” It lasted but for a moment, the warmth returning to Chester’s mouth as he swirled his tongue around the head of Mike’s dick, his saliva still sticky from the popsicle. He wasn’t gentle as he pulled Mike into him, relaxing as he deep-throated him, a move Mike considered exceptional and that usually made him feel terribly guilty as Chester fought his gag reflex, but which tonight felt so amazing, and he was so far gone into his lust-driven mind that guilt had no place in their tryst. He gripped Chester’s shoulders hard, his body leaning forward and looking for purchase, struggling to stay upright on legs that were starting to feel blissfully numb, and in a moment of clarity he knew that he would come right then if he didn’t back away. 

“Stop, Ches, stop… Jesus,” he cried in a hushed tone, Chester releasing him with a pop, Mike’s hands pulling at him, and they sank down to the floor, Chester’s hands twisting in Mike’s hair as he fused their mouths together. The kiss twisted and deepened, Chester’s nails scraping Mike’s scalp as Mike’s fingers dug into his hips, working their frantically underneath the boxer briefs Chester was still wearing even as Chester ground into him, the fabric too rough against his super sensitive dick. “Chester, Ches, you’re gonna make me come, stop,” he said into Chester’s aggressive kiss, pushing against his chest for the second time tonight, this time with a bit more force. As Chester pulled away for a moment, Mike dragged his hand to the front of his boxers and gripped him hard, watching Chester’s face twist with pleasure as he growled, “off. Now.”

He barely had both legs out of his boxers when Mike pressed him down into the carpet and settled heavily between his sticky thighs, biting the tender place where his neck and shoulder met, shaking his head at the loud groan from Chester’s mouth. “Don’t make me gag you,” he threatened, clasping long fingers over Chester’s lips. “I told you to be good.” Mike pulled back a moment and looked at Chester, meeting his lustful gaze, carefully moving his hand away, testing to see if Chester would actually be quiet. The moment he moved his hand, Chester’s lips were on his again, pulling him back down while pressing his arousal up into Mike. He reached up and pulled Chester’s hands from his hair, tightly holding his tattooed wrists down by his sides the way he’d learned Chester secretly loved. 

Chester wouldn’t admit it, but he was painfully aroused by Mike holding him down, and there had been several times he knew that he gotten off just on Mike’s dominance, Mike’s aggressiveness, Mike’s control over his body. Mike wouldn’t admit it but there were nights that he had to get all of that dominance and aggressiveness out or he’d lose his mind, and those were nights that he wouldn’t take back in a million years, nights that he could make them both come with ferocity and wring every ounce of energy from their bodies. Tonight was shaping up to be one of those nights.

He dragged his tongue across Chester’s stomach, feeling each dip and curve in the muscles there, feeling the contractions when he hit a sensitive spot, mumbling, “you have the sexiest stomach,” against the warm skin. He felt Chester’s attempt at breaking his hands free and it took all the strength Mike had in his arms to keep them down. “Nuh-uh, you’re not moving,” he said, biting a line up Chester’s side, then lifting to kiss him again, the kind of deep, consuming kiss that made him feel like he was suffocating, like there wasn’t enough air in the universe to sate his need. When the kiss finally broke, Chester was gasping for air and Mike placed his swollen lips on his ear, his beard softly scraping Chester’s tender cheek, and husked, “how do you want me tonight, Ches? You want me to hold you down, make it so that you can’t move, can’t get away, fuck you until you want to scream but you can’t? I can’t wait to be inside you, Ches. Tell me, tell me that you want me to fuck you hard.” Mike drove his hips down into Chester, punctuating his request, and Chester turned his face into Mike’s lips and moaned, “yes, God, yes, fuck me hard, Mikey.”

Mike pulled Chester up by the wrists, nudging him toward the bed with one hand as he opened the drawer next to the bed for their stash of lube. “On your knees, I want you to face the bed,” he commanded in a low voice that Chester had no trouble obeying. He swatted Chester’s hand away from his erection that he’d started stroking, smiling at Chester’s whine when he grabbed his flamed wrists and shoved them up onto the bed, saying, “you’d better find something to hold on to.”

Chester dug his hands into the sheets and groaned when Mike ran his hands over his stomach and down, skimming around his arousal without touching him, and he pushed his ass back toward Mike. “You want me now, Chester? Can’t wait? You need me inside you now, or should I finger fuck you first?” He felt a rush of heat to his face, a little embarrassed at his dirty talk, he didn’t usually talk that way but that _fucking popsicle_ in Chester’s mouth had turned him on more than any pornography he’d ever seen. He gasped as Chester ground down on him, begging, “just do it, I want you inside me.”

It was all the invitation Mike needed, slathering himself in a generous amount of lube before thrusting inside his lover, the shock causing Chester to cry out in surprise and Mike to slam a hand over his mouth, apologizing, “sorry, I’m sorry, Ches… _fuck_ , Ches, you’re so fucking tight...”

Chester braced himself on the bed and pushed back into Mike, adjusting to the feeling of Mike inside him, moaning under Mike’s hand, feeling Mike’s carefully manicured fingernails digging into his hip. He was almost sitting back on Mike’s thighs when Mike lifted his knees, pushing Chester toward the bed, resting his forehead on Chester’s back as he moved in and out, sighing against Chester’s skin in relief. “You feel so good, goddamn, feeling you like this, being inside you this way… I never knew what I was missing all those years.” Mike relaxed his hand over Chester’s mouth, asking, “can you keep it down, Ches?”

As Chester nodded his head, Mike dropped his hand down and took his neglected erection in hand, setting up the same strokes he was thrusting with, turning Chester into a trembling mess. His forehead was resting on the mattress, every thrust Mike made pushing him into the bed, so that he was sandwiched between the soft mattress and Mike’s hard chest, hot on his back and cold on his front, the difference in temperature the theme of their evening. 

Without a thought, he moaned again as Mike adjusted their angle and his grip on both Chester’s dick and his hip, and Mike hissed out “damnit, Chester, you just can’t be quiet, can you?” Mike pushed Chester’s face into the mattress and breathed hotly into his ear, “moan all you want into there, love, Bourdie will never hear it.”

Just the mention of someone else in the house, the danger of being overheard, caused another long exhalation of bliss from Chester’s now muffled lips, and Mike couldn’t help but smile as he picked up the pace, following through on his promise to fuck the vocalist until he thought he would scream, to fuck him hard until they both came, shuddering together this time, Chester all over Mike’s hand, crying out into the mattress as he clawed into the sheets, and Mike inside of Chester, Mike biting down on his bottom lip that still tasted like cherry popsicle; and when it was over and the ripples faded, Mike pulled Chester away from the bed and cradled him against his body tenderly, his aggressiveness spent, both of them exhausted and satisfied. 

It took all the energy Chester could muster to say, minutes later, “I should have bought popsicles a long time ago.”

Mike smiled as he kissed the back of Chester’s neck softly, watching the goosebumps rise on his flesh. “Yeah... that was pretty fucking hot,” he agreed.


	33. Shame

Mike woke up earlier than Chester and stretched, an ear to ear smile on his face as soon as he opened his eyes. It was three days before the start of the west coast part of the tour, and he was going to see his kids today. Not only was he going to see them, he was going to bring them to Rob’s and they were going to spend the entire day with him, and part of it with Chester. He felt like he was in a cheesy movie where the sun was shining, the birds were singing, and optimism was abundant. The sun brightly peeking through the curtains added to his feeling of satisfaction with life.

He felt Chester’s warmth beckoning him, and he rolled over, tucking an arm under Chester’s pillow and the other over his waist, drawing close and burying his face in Chester’s neck. _This is what happiness feels like. If someone asked me in an interview, I would say that happiness is laying next to Chester._ Goofy smile still in place, he admonished himself. _I could never say that, people would lose their minds. But if they only knew. I could stay here forever._ He inhaled deeply, his stomach twisting with the same desire he’d felt for the vocalist as long as he’d known him. The difference now was that he could actually have what he wanted, whenever he wanted it… and the knowledge was empowering and intoxicating. _It’s going to be so weird to tell the world we’re together, but I don’t think anyone will be surprised, really._ He kissed the back of Chester’s neck gently, and reluctantly turned back over, sliding out from under the comforter and tucking it around his still sleeping lover before reaching for his glasses. 

The world came into focus and he glanced at his phone. A calendar reminder popped up for tomorrow, an interview he and Chester had scheduled in the afternoon, and he frowned for a moment. _This must have been why I was thinking about interviews. Why did we schedule an interview the day before we leave? That’s just poor planning._ Mike shook his head, annoyed that he would need to use some of today to pack, with time being stolen from tomorrow for the interview. He glanced at Chester again before making his way over to the dresser, taking a clean t-shirt and boxers from their respective well-organized drawers, and heading into the en suite for a shower. 

As the warm water flowed over his head, he thought about the last six _One More Light_ shows they would be playing in the States before their week in Japan, and then they’d be home for quite some time, when it would be getting real, really fast. They’d imposed on Rob long enough, and when they came home from their private detour to Hawaii Chester had insisted upon, they’d agreed that they needed to find a temporary residence until the divorces were final and they could make more permanent decisions. Chester had laughed as he imagined the look they would get signing a lease somewhere, on some small house in suburbia, and Mike had put an end to that quickly. He wasn’t sure what the solution was, but Linkin Park’s two frontmen signing a lease together seemed like a fast way to have their private lives smeared all over the tabloids.

Running his sponge full of bubbly shower gel over his body, he shook his head. Chester didn’t care about tabloids, he never had. But Mike… he prided himself on his privacy, his dutiful and law abiding life that had never given anyone reason to print shit about him or his family. Hell, nobody even knew his daughter’s names. That in itself was a major victory. _As soon as someone gets wind of my divorce, that will be over. The girl’s names will be everywhere. Ugh._

He rinsed the soap off, berating himself as he realized yet another way his choices were affecting his kids lives. He wanted to talk to Otis today about his relationship with Chester, but he still hadn’t found the right words. _How do you tell your ten year old son you’ve left his mother for another man?_ Sighing, he shut off the water and reached for a towel, rubbing his dark hair briskly and drying off quickly, tossing the towel aside and slipping on the t-shirt and boxers he’d brought in the bathroom with him. Damp hair sticking up in all directions, he ran a hand through it to tame it a bit and brushed his teeth, thinking about coffee and bacon. 

Chester was still asleep when Mike stepped out of the bathroom, threw on a short-sleeved button down and shorts quickly, and crept quietly to the door, heading downstairs. Rob was already awake, sitting at the table in the breakfast nook, sipping his coffee and thumbing through the newspaper. “Morning,” he tossed over in Rob’s direction, heading for the refrigerator. 

“Morning. We’re out of bacon,” was Rob’s response, not looking up from the paper.

It was the second thing to deflate the euphoric mood Mike had awoken with. Grimacing, he turned to the coffee grinder and looked at Rob, crankily asking, “what’s with you and Brad and the newspaper. Everyone reads the news on their phones these days.” He knew he was lashing out at stupid things, bacon and newspapers, but he couldn’t stop himself. 

Rob’s eyes flicked over to Mike, showing zero sign of irritation at the emcee’s bitter response to the lack of bacon in the house. “There’s just something reassuring about holding it in your hand. It’s like books. I can’t read a book on a tablet either. Somethings are just meant to be held.”

The explanation made sense to Mike, as he got some satisfaction from destroying coffee beans to bits in the grinder, and he nodded even though Rob had already turned his attention back to the paper. Soon enough he sat down across from Rob and sighed, his thoughts troubled. 

Setting the paper aside, Rob took a sip of his coffee and peered at Mike thoughtfully. “What’s wrong, Mike? Looks like more than being out of bacon.” Mike moved his thumb over the handle of the coffee mug, back and forth, looking down at his hands wrapped around the cup, avoiding Rob’s gaze. “I thought you were picking up the kids today, it’s supposed to be a good day. I’ve already got drumsticks out for them to fight over.”

“Yeah, I’m leaving in about a half hour to go get them, and yeah, it sucks that we’re out of bacon. Maybe Chester can get some while he’s out today,” Mike looked toward the upstairs, where Chester was still sleeping. “I was thinking about trying to explain what’s going on with me and Chester to Otis today. I just… I don’t know what to say, Bourdie.”

Rob ran a hand through his hair, considering Mike’s words. After a few minutes of Mike looking down into his coffee, waiting, Rob asked, “do you think you need to do that now? You don’t think just explaining that you’re staying here for a while until you find a new place is enough?”

Still gazing into his coffee, Mike shrugged one shoulder. “I don’t know. I mean, there’s just no telling what Anna has already said to him, you know? He’s ten years old, Bourdie, he’s going to ask questions about Chester being here too that the girls won’t think to ask. I don’t want to lie to him.” 

“Chester’s kids didn’t seem to think much of it when they were here last week.”

“Yeah, but Chester’s kids are… used to _other people_ being around.” Mike paused, thinking through and choosing his words carefully. “I mean, there’s three moms among his kids, and Chester’s never been shy about having them all together.” It occured to Mike that he would be the fourth significant partner in Chester’s life, the thought blinding as though it were brand new information. He shook the thought away, because it simply didn’t matter. Chester was his. He loved the mothers of his children, but he loved Mike more. Mike was sure of it. “I think they see everyone as family, because Chester has it set up that way, very open, very inclusive. My family… we’re just not like that.” He finally looked up at Rob, who was chewing on his bottom lip as he listened.

“So… you’re afraid of his acceptance of Chester?” Rob finally guessed, not sure he was understanding what Mike was trying to say. 

“Something like that,” Mike agreed. “I just don’t know how to tell my son, my impressionable ten year old son, that I’m going against every family principle we have and living with another man.” He dropped his head again, feeling the shame that had been taught to him since birth covering his flushed face. “I’m not embarrassed of my choices, I’m not. The shame is cultural, I suppose. I have to get over that. I’ve made my choice, I’m sticking by my choice. I just don’t know how to let my son down. What if… what if this changes how he sees me, Bourdie? What if _he’s_ embarrassed of _me_?”

Rob just smiled, knowing exactly how to answer that question. “Mike, you’re the rapper in one of the biggest rock bands in the world. He may be shocked initially, even if he doesn’t fully understand what’s happening, but he’s always going to be proud of you. You’re Mike fuckin’ Shinoda,” he said, copying Chester’s tone of voice when he proclaimed that very same sentence.

Mike smiled, a little of the anxiety subsiding, and glancing at his watch, stood up. “Thanks, Bourdie. I’ve gotta go fix my hair before I head out.” Depositing his empty cup in the dishwasher, he paused. “You know, I think I’ll just wear a hat. It’s going to be a chill day.”

Rob opened his newspaper back up and nodded. “As chill as it can be with three kids fighting over my drumset,” he said as Mike grabbed his keys and headed out the door, hat in hand.

**********

“Papa!” Otis exclaimed, throwing open the door to Mike’s house. He scooped Otis into his arms for a tight hug and heard Abi and Jo running down the stairs. Within seconds he had kids climbing all over him, clamoring for hugs and kisses and excitedly sharing stories over each other. Mike was laughing and placing kisses on all their cheeks when he looked up to see Anna, her face curiously blank, in the foyer, watching him. 

He reached up and turned his hat around, portraying more confidence than he was feeling. “It’s okay, it’s okay, Josie,” he said to his youngest daughter as she clung to him, calling her by her special pet name. The five year old was his special little princess, and it was clear to Mike she’d been missing him terribly. He stood up with her in his arms as Otis chattered on about the drawing he’d been working on and Abi tied her sneakers. His eyes met with Anna’s, and she looked at him for a moment before turning her eyes cooly away toward their son.

“Otis, did you want to bring your book over to Uncle Rob’s?” Anna asked, referencing the sketchbook he was talking animatedly about.

“Oh, yes, Mama, it’s in the dining room!” Otis took off to retrieve his book, leaving Mike with his girls and Anna, the atmosphere strained.

“I’ll have them home before dinner,” Mike promised as he glanced at Anna, remembering their agreement from the day before. 

“Oh, Papa,” Jo whined, “I want to have dinner with you! It’s not fair, Mama, please!”

“Josie, I’m leaving again on tour, I have to pack tonight. Mama and I decided that you would come home in time for dinner tonight,” Mike explained. “We’ll have all day together, princess.”

With a pout across her features, Jo buried her face in Mike’s neck as Abi piped up, “but Papa, you just got back from tour. Why are you leaving again so soon?” The seven year old looked perplexed, and Mike’s eyes shot over to Anna in surprise.

 _She’s been telling them I’m gone on tour? Why lie?_ he thought. _She’s going to put all the explanation on me, I see._ He looked down at Abi’s crinkled face and patted her hair gently. “Papa’s been really busy, baby. Remember, we made a new record this year? Your uncles and I have been really busy out on the road getting support for that record. It will slow down soon, I promise.”

“And then you’ll come back home?” Abi asked as Otis skidded back into the foyer on his socked feet, sliding across the tile toward his shoes. “You’re coming back home, Papa?” Otis asked excitedly, looking at Mike with hope in his eyes.

Anna said nothing, and Mike was forced to simply respond, “we’ll talk about all that this afternoon, guys. Get your shoes on so we can go.” He lowered Jo to the floor and she plunked down to stuff her feet into glittery silver flats. “Wrong feet, Josie,” he redirected her, keeping his eyes away from Anna.

As the kids climbed in his car and buckled themselves, Mike couldn’t help but fire off a text to Anna.

8:17 AM _You told them I’ve been on tour?_

The response was instant, and he knew she’d been waiting for him to say something.

8:17 AM _You made the choice to leave, you can tell them yourself what’s going on_

Mike stared at her response for a moment before he sighed heavily and set down his phone. “Everyone buckled?” he asked, putting the car in gear.

A chorus of yeses answered from the back seats, and he started around the circle drive, anxious to put distance between himself and Anna. His heart lifted at the chattering voices behind him. _I’m not talking about it with them today. I want one more day with them that they will only have good memories. I’ll have more time to plan what I want to say if I wait until we’re back from Hawaii._ His eyes caught Otis’ in the rearview mirror and Mike smiled as Otis smiled at him. “I can’t wait to show you my drawings, Papa,” he said, his eyes crinkling in the mirror, reminding Mike of his own.

“I can’t wait to see them,” Mike responded honestly. Otis had the makings of an artist in him, and Mike was proud of his creativity and ability.

The drive to Rob’s was short, and when they arrived the girls took off for the front door, racing to find Uncle Rob and be the first to bang away on his spectacular drum set up in his home studio. It was far more elaborate than the set Rob kept at Mike’s, and everyone’s kids loved to play around on it when they visited Rob’s. Mike found himself alone with Otis, walking up the sidewalk, his hand on his son’s back. He was so grateful to have them back for the day.

Otis looked up at his dad, and instantly shattered Mike’s comfortable atmosphere. “Papa?” he asked as they walked, “why are you staying at Uncle Rob’s? Mama says you’ve been working, but I went on the computer when she wasn’t looking and found your tour dates. You haven’t been working this whole time since we saw you last.”

Mike stopped dead in his tracks outside Rob’s front door, which the girls had left open. He didn’t know what to say. It certainly wasn’t the way he’d envisioned having this conversation with his son, thinking that Anna had probably already told the kids that he wasn’t coming back, and he wasn’t prepared in the slightest. He looked at Otis and was about to say something when his son said, “you’re not coming home, are you, Papa?”

“Otis… son… things are… different,” he started, unsure of what to say but determined to tell the truth. He’d already learned his lesson when it came to not confronting reality, but all the words he could think of were jumbled up in his head right then, and Mike was certain he was going to say the wrong thing. “I wanted to talk to you about this today, Otis, but I’m not really sure what to say,” he said honestly. 

His son looked at the ground, his shoulders drooping, and Mike felt his heart ache. It wasn’t fair, that in order to be the person he wanted to be, to follow what his heart was telling him would make him happy, he had to hurt his children. All the guilt and shame hit him full force.

“Otis, I…” he paused, the words sticking in his throat. His son turned and looked at him, his intelligent brown eyes so innocent, and Mike faltered. 

“Yes, Papa?” 

He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t make himself start the conversation, he couldn’t crush that sweet soul looking at him with such love. He couldn’t bear it if his son stopped loving him.

He reached over and ran his hand over the top of Otis’ hair, and simply said, “I love you, son. Let’s go find your sisters.” Mike bit his bottom lip as he searched for the right words, buying himself a few more minutes to think.


	34. Truth

Mike followed Otis inside, shutting the front door, already hearing sounds from the drum kit upstairs. He looked over at Otis and said, “sounds like they’re up in Uncle Rob’s drum room. Go on up, I’ll be there in a minute.”

His son looked at him, a little unsure, and Mike forced a smile, gesturing to the stairs. “I’ll be up in a minute, I promise,” he repeated, and Otis handed Mike his sketchbook, taking off upstairs to take his turn on the drums. 

Mike immediately pulled out his phone as he walked through the kitchen, stepping out onto the patio and calling Anna, tucking Otis’ sketchbook up under his arm. She answered on the first ring.

“You know you’re only supposed to talk to my lawyer,” was the first thing out of her mouth.

Mike sighed. “I thought if we could talk yesterday about me having the kids today, you might answer my call today,” he said by way of explanation. They hadn’t really talked much since she left him in Colorado, and he hadn’t really known what to say to her anyway.

“What do you want, Mike?” Anna’s voice was edgy.

“I’ll be quick, I… just… Anna, I’m just surprised you told them I was on tour this whole time. I’d like to know what you told them so I don’t contradict you when I talk to them.” He heard the sigh down the line, then the pause. He waited, and waited. “Anna?”

“I didn’t think I should have to be the one to tell them you aren’t coming home, Mike. I didn’t make this choice. I don’t want to see their faces when you tell them. You should be the one to shoulder that burden. I want you to feel the weight of what you’ve done. Mike,” her voice broke and he could tell she was crying. “I hope Chester is worth it.” 

Mike didn’t have a response to that. Rubbing his hand over his face, he turned his hat back around correctly, pulling the bill low over his eyes. Finally, he said tiredly, “I’m going to tell them today, Anna, just so you are aware. It’s not right to lie to them about this. I don’t want them to have false hope.”

“Well, isn’t that nice of you,” she responded bitterly, and Mike felt like an idiot for his choice of words, recalling how he’d done exactly that to her in the hotel room in Florida.

“I’m sorry, Anna,” he said quietly. “I didn’t want this to be so difficult.”

“I guess you can’t really control that, can you? I’m sure that’s driving you crazy.” She let that comment sit there for a moment, then said, “tell them what you think they can handle. I’d prefer you leave Chester out of it for now.” Mike nodded even though he knew she couldn’t see him. “I’ve got your offer from my lawyer and I’ll be looking it over again today. It sounds really stupid to say this, but thank you. I’m glad to see we won’t have to fight things out in court.”

Relief coursed through Mike’s body at Anna’s last words. _Thank God. I’ve been waiting to hear that._ “Okay… I’ll be waiting to hear back from mine… I’m trying to be fair-”

“Fair?” Anna’s teary voice turned incredulous. “Nothing about this is fair, Michael. Nothing.  
Don’t try to talk to me about fairness.”

Mike dropped his head and shifted the sketchbook further up under his arm, making sure he didn’t drop it. After a moment, he decided to just change the subject back to the kids. The emotions between them were why they just weren’t talking right now. “I’ll go as easy on them as I can, Anna. You know I love them. I’m just going to let them know that when the tour is over, I’ll be staying with Uncle Rob again, and that’s all I’m going to get into today. Okay?”

“Yeah. Just… try to pick the pieces up before you bring them back to me.”

Mike closed his eyes and nodded again. “Okay.” He heard Anna’s line disconnect, and he looked down at the phone, dreading his next move. _I have to do it now, I have to talk to them now so I can try to make things better before I take them back tonight. Get the bad stuff out of the way so I can leave them with the good stuff. That will work, right?_ He pocketed his phone and stepped back inside, flipping open the sketchbook he’d been holding. There were pages of Otis’ drawings in pencil, random objects he’d chosen from around the house to work on his skills, the way Mike had taught him. Smiling proudly, he closed the book and placed it on the bar, heading up the stairs toward the loud ‘music’ that was coming from the drum room.

Unexpectedly, he found Chester in the hallway as he passed their room, and he laughed at the look on the vocalist’s face. Chester looked confused, standing in his wrinkled pajamas, his glasses askew, when Mike bumped his hip into Chester’s side. “Morning, Ches, you just now waking up?”

“What the fuck is Bourdie doing?” Chester asked, pointing toward the studio.

Mike laughed, “that’s not Bourdie, the kids are here!” He cocked his head to the side, listening. “And from the sound of it, that’s probably Jo beating on things. She’s pretty heavy handed.”

Chester grimaced, rubbing his hand on his temple as though he had a headache, taking a step toward the studio. “Yeah, it’s fucking loud this early in the morning. I’ll go say hi and then I’m taking a long shower.” 

Frowning, Mike reached his hand out, stopping Chester with a hand on his arm. “Nah, go ahead and go shower, and get dressed.” Chester looked at him, tilting his head in question, and Mike continued, “I’ve decided I’m going to talk to them about the divorce this morning. Anna told them I’ve been away working-” Chester’s face turned into a frown- “and I can’t just let that sit there like that, they should know I’m not… coming home.”

Immediately Chester’s eyes softened in sympathy. “That’s not true, Mikey. You’ll just be coming back to a different home… our home.” Mike swallowed, feeling his emotions threatening his voice again, and Chester continued, “you can do it. You’ll find the right words… you always find the right words.” He closed a hand over Mike’s on his arm, squeezing it, then lowered his voice even though he was certain it couldn’t be heard over Jo’s drumming. “I love you, you know.” Mike was still trying to find a way to speak over the lump in his throat, but Chester just squeezed his hand again and turned back toward the bedroom. “I know, Mike.”

Mike stood in the hallway for a minute, trying to gather the strength to walk into Rob’s studio and shatter his children’s innocence. His head spinning, he reached out for the wall, leaning heavily against it, listening. He could hear their laughter, Otis’ exclamations that it was his turn, Rob’s patient voice a calming force over the chaos. _I’m going to ruin all the fun. They’re going to hate me. I’m going to ruin everything. I wish Chester could go in there with me. He thinks I can find the right words, but I only find those words when he’s beside me. That’s how it’s always been, that’s how we’ve always worked, I need him with me._

He knew deep in his consciousness that Chester would never be one to lie to him, and ultimately, it was Chester’s unfaltering faith in his ability to _find the right words_ that wormed its way into his brain, giving him a little more confidence, and he flipped his cap backwards again, drew a deep breath and continued down the hallway.

Otis had just taken his seat behind the drumset when Mike walked in, his daughters looking on delightedly, Rob correcting his son’s grip on the sticks before letting him go. He watched, amused, as Otis tried out a beat he made up, then continued it on a loop, beaming at Rob when he found a suitable groove. Rob gave him the thumbs up and a wide smile, then saw Mike in the doorway. 

“I’m going to turn him into a proper drummer, see this?” Rob yelled over Otis’ playing.

“Not if I can get him better at guitar first!” Mike yelled back. He walked closer to Rob and yelled, “we’ll play more later, is it okay if I talk to them for a few minutes? Alone?”

“You’re always ruining the fun!” Rob complained, the exact wrong words to say at that moment. Mike’s expression clouded, and Rob noted the change right away, immediately apologizing, “I’m just messing with you, Mike! I’ll be downstairs!” 

Running a hand over Abi’s hair on his way out, Rob discreetly vanished and Mike looked at his children, saying a silent prayer that he wasn’t about to screw everything up worse than it already was. “Otis! Hey, take a break for a moment! I want to talk with you guys!” He sat down on the couch in the studio, pulling Jo up into his lap, beckoning for Abi and Otis to come closer to him. Otis frowned, but obeyed his father, setting down the drumsticks and coming around the drumset to stand next to his sister. “Thanks, son,” Mike said softly, and Otis sat down next to Abi on the carpet at Mike’s feet, looking up expectantly.

Screwing up his courage, he started, “I need to tell you something, something really important. But I also need you to remember something else, something even more important.” Mike squeezed Jo close and pressed his face into her hair, inhaling the same sweet citrusy smell as Anna’s hair. A little knife twisted in his heart, that little stab of pain that reminded him that he did still love Anna, that he was a horrible person for leaving her, that he loved his children and hated what he was about to do to their tender hearts.

He looked at his other two babies; Abi’s eyes were on him, serious, and Otis looked as though he already knew where the conversation was headed. He thought about their tiny newborn faces in Anna’s exhausted arms, red and scrunched and wailing, full of life from the very first moments after birth. He thought about first steps and first words, chubby hands reaching for his nose, sweet smiles and baby belly laughs. He thought about teaching them all to swim, and fish, and the first time they went to Disney together. He thought about all the little moments he was going to miss, when he’d already missed so many days on tour. The tears were pricking in his eyes when he looked at the three of them and said, “I need you to remember that I love you very much. And I will always love you, no matter what.” His voice cracking with emotion, he took a breath and forced himself to keep going. “Mama loves you, too. I need you to remember that we both love you.”

Wholesome little faces nodded in agreement as Mike spoke, their eyes on their Papa’s emotional face. _Rip off the bandaid, Mike_ , he said to himself. A deep breath, and then he said clearly, “I’m leaving to go tour again with your uncles in a few days… and when I get back… I’m not coming home, not to your home with Mama. I’m coming back to Uncle Rob’s.” He held his breath as his chest ached, and he squeezed Jo close again as her face turned down in a frown.

Otis looked down at the floor, silently, but Abi’s eyebrows drew together the same way Anna’s did when she was upset and worried, and she asked, “but, Papa, why? You’ve been gone so long!”

“I know, baby… I know. It’s been longer than usual this time, and I’m sorry. Even though I’m coming back to Uncle Rob’s, I promise you I will see you more once I’m back from Japan.” 

Abi didn’t look convinced, and she looked at her brother, who was still staring at the floor, before she said again, “but, why can’t you come back home with us, with Mama?”

Mike didn’t know how much information he should really give, or how to present it correctly, so all he said was, “Abi, baby, Mama and I are not going to live in the same house anymore.” Jo turned her little face into his chest and clung to him, and he felt her quiet little sobs against his body. He smoothed his hand over her small back and murmured, “it’s going to be ok, Josie, I’m still going to see you. I still love you. Remember, that’s what I need you to remember the most,” he looked down at Abi, who was also starting to cry, “I need you to remember that I love you. So much.” He reached his hand out to his daughter, who was up in a flash, falling into Mike’s lap and smashing her face into his arm, snuggling close to her sister as they both cried. Mike sat there, holding them both, feeling his heart breaking as he looked at his son, who hadn’t said anything yet. “Otis? Son?”

A look of utter bewilderment was all Mike saw in his son’s eyes when he finally looked up, still silent. There were no tears, just a piercing look of sadness that Mike felt in his very soul. He scooted forward on the carpet and leaned against Mike’s legs, and they sat together for a while, the girl’s sniffles the only audible sound. 

Eventually, Mike said softly, “why don’t we go outside? We can go to the park, we’ll take Uncle Rob’s soccer ball. It’s a great day, let’s not spend it being sad.” 

Abi looked at up at him warily, wiping her face on her sleeve. Mike thought she might ask more questions, and he waited as she looked at him for a moment, then grabbed Jo’s hand and said, “come on, Jo, let’s go see if Uncle Rob wants to come too.” They took off downstairs to find Rob, and Mike looked down at Otis, who was still sitting on the floor, his back against Mike’s knees.

He reached down and squeezed Otis’ shoulder. “Son? You haven’t said much. What are you thinking about?”

Otis shrugged, leaning back into Mike’s hand. He rubbed over his son’s hair, soothing him the way he’d done for his girls. “Well, if you want to talk about anything, I’m here, Otis. I’ll always be here.”

“It’s because of Uncle Chester, isn’t it?” Otis blurted out suddenly, turning to look at Mike with his eyes wide, as though he had scared himself with his own words. “I heard Mama on the phone. She said… she said…”

Mike’s stomach lurched painfully as he looked at his son, terrified to know, trying to ask in a calm voice so as not to betray the whirlwind of emotions he felt inside, “what did she say, son?” 

Otis’ eyes stayed wide as he struggled with whether or not to tell his father what he’d overheard. Listening in to an adult’s conversation was disobedient, but he hadn’t been able to help himself.

With a shaky breath, Mike tried again, “you can tell me. I don’t want you to think you can’t talk to me, even when it’s uncomfortable, or scary. What did you overhear Mama say?” Mike fought back the wave of nausea threatening him. He had been through too many emotions already today. 

Dropping his eyes to the floor, Otis confessed hesitantly, “she said you were sleeping with Uncle Chester. She sounded angry, but Papa? I don’t understand why that would make her angry. You and Uncle Chester, and Uncle Brad and Uncle Rob, and Uncle Joe, and Uncle Dave... you all sleep together when you’re on tour, Papa. Why is she angry at Uncle Chester?”

Relief washed over him as he realized his son had no idea what sleeping together meant, aside from the literal. In Otis’ mind, the six of them participated in something akin to a giant sleepover while they were away from their families. Mike reached out and pulled his son into a fierce hug. “Otis, it’s true that Uncle Chester is staying here at Uncle Rob’s with me right now, and it’s true that we all sleep under the same roof right now, just like you and Mama, Abi and Jo. And Mama is really just upset with Papa right now, but I promise you, it will get better. You have to trust me, son.” 

Otis nodded, his face still troubled, and it was at that moment Chester chose to poke his head into the studio and say brightly, “I heard we were headed out to play soccer!”

Mike looked down at his son and watched the struggle on his face as he looked at his beloved Uncle Chester, and for a moment time was suspended as the little boy tried to make the choice whether to be loyal to his mother’s anger that he didn’t understand, or to his love for his father’s friend. Fear sank into Mike’s stomach as he waited, eyes on Chester, but it was followed by joyous, sharp relief as Otis made his decision, bouncing out of Mike’s arms, running to meet Chester for a hug. 

Chester’s grin over Otis’ head melted Mike’s heart. _There it is. Chester was right. It’s going to be okay._ He followed as Chester raced Otis down the hallway, both of them shouting animatedly about choosing teams. _It’s going to be a good day after all._

********** 

Anna met them at the door that evening, her faced lined with worry as she watched the children climb the steps. They were grass stained and cheerful, even as they said their goodbyes to Mike, who gave kisses and hugs over and over, promising to see them as soon as he was home, with surprises from Japan. He watched as they all went inside, the girls blowing him kisses, and then realized he was still holding Otis’ sketchbook.

“Otis!” he called, “I have your book!”

Back out the door he came, rushing into Mike’s arms for one last hug, peering up at him. “I love you, Papa,” he said, taking his sketchbook from Mike before turning and running back into the house, leaving him to yell after his son, “I love you more!”

Right before she moved to shut the door, Mike’s eyes caught Anna’s, and he said quietly, “I brought them back in one piece.” When after a moment she didn’t respond, he turned and started down the steps, saying over his shoulder, “I’ll let you know when I’m back.”

Her answer was the sound of the door clicking shut behind him.

Sighing, he started back to Rob’s and was almost there when his phone vibrated in his pocket. He knew it would be a message from Anna. _She’s mad. I said something wrong, or the kids are upset. I don’t even want to deal with her tonight, we had a good day. It ended up being okay, I think. Right? They had fun, we all had fun.”_

Right before he walked inside, where he knew both packing his bags and Chester awaited him, he finally gathered enough courage to look down at the text message from Anna. It was simple, to the point, and cut into his heart like a dagger.

5:35 PM _We’ll see you when you get back_


	35. No Comment.

_We’ll see you when you get back._

_We._

It resonated in Mike’s head for the rest of the night. When he opened the door to Chester’s deep kiss, his face shining as he said, “ _I’m so proud of you_.” When he chose shirts and pants and laid them out before folding them to put in his suitcase. When he removed his contacts and stood brushing his teeth that evening. _Why did she say we? She hasn’t wanted to see me or be around me in weeks. We. What does that mean?_

Chester was already in bed when he stepped out of the bathroom, propped against the headboard on two pillows, immersed in something on his phone. Smiling, Mike slid under the sheets next to him, forgetting about Anna for a moment as he leaned close to Chester and rested his chin on his arm, looking at the phone screen. “Whatcha doing?” 

“Looking at all the nonsense on Twitter. Nothing important,” he said, putting his phone on the table by the lamp and turning to Mike, scooting down in the bed and resting their foreheads together. “I had a good day, today,” he said, lifting a hand to stroke through Mike’s hair. 

“Me too… even if you guys kicked my ass at soccer.” 

Chester giggled, his fingernails tickling lightly along Mike’s scalp. “Tired, love?”

“A little bit, yeah.” Mike closed his eyes, relaxing under Chester’s hand. “That feels good, Ches…” He felt the light kiss Chester pressed to his lips and sighed contentedly. “The kids seemed to be okay when I dropped them off to Anna.”

“I told you they would be okay. They’re going to be more accepting that you think. Even Otis,” Chester added at the end, aware that Mike had been particularly worried about his son.

With his eyes still closed, Mike said, “he overheard Anna telling someone we’re sleeping together. He didn’t understand what she meant, but still…”

Several silent minutes passed as Chester continued to soothe his fingers through Mike’s hair, then he said, “well, it’s better than some of the things she could have said. Sam says all kinds of horrible things to Dra, still, even after all these years. I haven’t even bothered to try to talk to her about all of this. She’s like poison.”

Opening his eyes, Mike commented, “She always hated me. I don’t understand why, but she did.”

Chester exhaled slowly. “I think she could see how you and I interacted, how we really felt about each other. She felt threatened. With good cause, apparently,” he spoke thoughtfully, carefully. “She’s going to lose her mind when I tell her about us. She didn’t care when I told her that Tali and I split, but I think this might send her over the edge.” A devilish smile crossed his face, and Chester whispered, “and I don’t fuckin’ care.”

Mike chuckled quietly. “Me either. I can’t wait for Dra to be eighteen and out from under her constant influence. At least Anna is reasonable. She didn’t say much to me, but she wasn’t being ugly either. She even mentioned seeing me when I got back.” He paused, checking for a reaction. Chester gave him nothing. “I guess that’s something.”

“Yeah… it’s something…” Chester passed his lips over Mike’s cheek, dismissing the conversation about their soon to be ex-wives. “Let’s go to sleep, we have a lot to get done tomorrow before we leave out again. Don’t forget we have that interview in the afternoon.” He rolled over, leaned and reached for the lamp, turning it off, and snuggled back close to Mike.

“Ugh, yeah, I remember. Hopefully it will be quick. Standard questions and all that.” Mike rolled his eyes in the dark, sliding an arm around Chester’s waist and pulling him flush against his body, placing a gentle kiss on Chester’s cheek. “Good night, Ches. I love you.”

“Love you, too.”

**********

The next morning’s early hours passed in a flurry of activity, most of which was Chester calling Mike back to their bedroom repeatedly to give his approval of the many ultra-coordinated outfits and pairs of shoes he was trying to take with him. 

The third time Chester had taken him away from his coffee, Mike was fussy. “Ches, we’re only going to be gone a week. We’ll be back in LA after Chula Vista. Do you really need…” he trailed off as he counted shoes, “twelve different pairs of shoes?” Mike pointed toward his own suitcases. “I’m only taking five for this leg. Everything fits in two bags. _Reasonably sized_ bags.”

Three large suitcases were on the floor next to the closet, one of which was full of only shoes, belts, and accessories. Chester looked over his things and snorted his disapproval at Mike’s words. “You know I can’t wear the same shoes twice on the same part of the tour!”

“There’s only five shows!” Mike exclaimed back at him in the same self-righteous tone. “What are the other seven pairs for?”

“Well, I can’t wear the same shoes on stage as off, hence the other seven,” Chester replied, his voice sing-songy, teasingly condescending, appealing to Mike with outstretched hands and a sweet smile under lowered eyelashes.

“Jesus, you’re a mess,” Mike said, pulling him close, surrendering the argument to Chester’s warm lips as they closed over his own.

“A mess that you love,” Chester replied after a moment, wiggling free of Mike’s grasp at the same time Rob called up the stairs, “Mike! Chester! Brad’s here!”

“Brad?” Mike cocked an eyebrow at Chester. “Any idea why Brad’s here?” 

Chester rolled his eyes. “Probably some last minute itinerary stuff. You know how uptight he gets about things running on time. Go on down, I’ll be there in a minute. Just gonna check everything over one more time. Don’t want to leave without something important.”

“Like a thirteenth pair of shoes?” Mike teased, on his way out the door.

“Whatever, Shinoda! You know you love my style!”

Mike shook his head, smile still plastered on his face, as he jogged down the stairs. Rob and Brad were in the kitchen, looking at Brad’s phone. An uneasy feeling crept over Mike as he read both their expressions. Neither of them were smiling. “What’s up, Brad?” Mike asked, stopping on the other side of the bar from his bandmates.

Without a word, Brad slid his phone across the bar for Mike to see. The internet browser was open to an article, which in itself was unnerving, since Brad always read a physical copy of the newspaper over breakfast, same as Rob. He glanced down and his breath froze in his body.

The headline itself would have garnered tons of clicks, even without the picture that followed.

**“Linkin Park Frontmen’s _Bromance_ More than Friends?”**

“Elisa found it and sent it to me, some gossip website,” Brad said carefully, watching Mike’s reaction.

“Shit,” Mike breathed, scrolling down the screen, past the picture of himself kissing Chester on stage, through the article claiming to have uncovered divorce petitions filed against both himself and Chester within a week of each other. He scanned the article as he scrolled by, his stomach twisting into knots, before he looked up at Brad. “Shit,” he said again.

Nodding, Brad reached for his phone. “I think it’s safe to say the world knows you guys have left your wives.”

“Jesus. We have an interview this afternoon,” Mike fretted. “You know this is going to come up.”

“What’s going to come up?” Chester said, entering the kitchen and stopping next to Mike.

“This.” Brad handed over his phone for a second time. 

Chester scrolled through the article quickly, exhaling as he reached the end. “Oh.” He looked around at the faces of his three bandmates, shrugged his shoulders and said, “well, we knew they would find out eventually. It _is_ public record, you know.”

“Someone had to have tipped them off,” Brad complained. “These fuckers, they don’t just sit down at the courthouse waiting for shit like this to roll through. Someone must have said something.”

“I don’t know.” Rob scratched the side of his face with the back of his fingers, running his hand over his facial hair several times. “I mean, it’s been over a month since Anna and Talinda filed. Seems that even just a cursory once-a-month check for any potential gossip could have stirred this up. Regardless, it’s out now. We almost made it to the end of the tour,” he ended, as though that were solace.

It didn’t make Mike feel any better. “We have that interview today, Ches,” he reminded him, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth. “That’s what I was saying. You know this will come up.”

“Well, we can’t cancel it,” Chester said. “I guess we probably need to call up management and see what their advice is… I’ll deal with that,” he offered after looking at Mike. Pulling out his phone, he drifted into the living room, and Mike turned his attention back to Brad and Rob.

“I don’t know what to say,” he admitted, looking down at the gray quartz countertop. “I really thought we’d make it through the end of the tour before this became an issue.”

“I’m sure people have been digging into you and Chester since the stage mishap in Tampa,” Rob said, and Brad nodded along his agreement. “We did an okay job of deflecting all that speculation at the time, but we all knew that wasn’t going to last.”

“Dave’s got wind of it,” Brad threw in, waving his phone at Mike. “He just texted me.”

“I’m sure PR is just going to say, ‘tell them no comment to everything’. That’s only going to work for so long. Man, I wish it was just over and done, and it didn’t matter if we just came straight out with the truth. I don’t want our relationship out there before our divorces are final. It could be frowned upon by the judges,” Mike said, remembering that his lawyer had been emphatic about keeping his relationship with Chester out of the public eye. “It could affect our custody agreements if we get a judge who disagrees with same-sex relationships.”

Brad chuckled. “We’re in California, Mike. The vast majority of these judges are _not_ conservatives. In fact, I would say you are statistically more likely to be in a car accident in LA than to get a conservative judge.”

It was Rob’s turn to nod his agreement. “It’s true. But… I think it’s wise to just say no comment right now. There’s no reason to get personal while you guys’ court cases are pending.”

Chester came back into the kitchen, his expression nonchalant. “I need more coffee. They,” he pointed to his phone, “didn’t tell us anything we didn’t already know.”

“No comment,” four voices said in unison.

“Exactly,” Chester sighed, looking at Mike. “Maybe we’ll get lucky this afternoon, maybe we won’t even be asked. Maybe whoever is interviewing us is too old for gossip news sites.”

Mike poured out his cold coffee, feeling his anxiety rising over the upcoming interview, and slid the cup over to Chester for a refill. “I doubt we’re going to get that lucky.”

Brad, Rob, and Chester just looked at him, and nobody said a word.

**********

Later that afternoon, as the interview neared the thirty minute mark, the blessed time that Mike and Chester would be able to stand and take their leave, Mike started to feel a little more relaxed. They’d laughed and told jokes, answered the same usual questions, and the ending was so near that Mike had stopped worrying about whether or not the gossip article would be brought up. Chester had just finished another of his humorous tales when a glint came into the young interviewer’s eyes as she prepared to ask her next question. 

“Mr. Shinoda… _Mike_... I can call you Mike, right?” She leaned forward conspiratorially, and Mike braced himself for what he knew was coming. He didn’t dare look at Chester, who had also grown very still in the seat next to his. “Before we end what has been such a great interview, I have a very serious question, a completely different topic than what we’ve been discussing. A little less about Linkin Park and a little more about Mike Shinoda. I’d like to know if you have a public statement on the subject of your divorce.”

Even though he’d been prepared for the question, it still caused Mike’s stomach to flip. As instructed earlier, he responded quickly and cooly, “no, I don’t have a statement to make at this time.” _Or ever, but that’s not going to stop you assholes from asking every damn interview_.

“Chester?” 

“I don’t have a statement to make on Mike’s divorce either,” Chester responded cheekily. 

Mike bit the inside of his lip to keep from laughing. It wasn’t funny, really, but it was such a typical Chester answer. He looked at Chester, who was also trying not to laugh.

The young woman looked perturbed by Chester’s answer. She leaned back and crossed her ankle over her knee, and looked directly at Chester, a fake smile on her face. “Mr. Bennington, surely you know that what I’m asking you is whether or not you have anything to say about your pending divorce. It’s my understanding that both of your wives have filed for divorce. Is that not true?”

Instantly Chester dropped his cheerful, outgoing exterior. “ _Ms. Perez_ ”, he started, with barely concealed disdain, “we all know that you have access to public records. The only thing you need to hear from us is that, yes, we are both currently undergoing divorce proceedings. Other than that, there’s nothing to say.” He looked over at Mike, who nodded his head curtly, his famous Shinoda grin gone as well.

“I just find it interesting that you both- especially you, Mr. Shinoda- haven’t you been married fourteen years? are in the middle of divorcing your wives at the same time. Just weeks after, I believe it was _you_ , Mike, who kissed Chester on stage? Is there any truth to the rumors that you’re leaving your wives for each other?”

Mike stood up then, his hands shaking as he twisted his watch, looking at the time. “Ms. Perez, we do appreciate your time this afternoon, but we really must stay on schedule. Our agreed upon time has come to an end. Mr. Bennington and I thank you for your concern, but we have no public statement at this time.”

Chester took his cue, rising from his seat as well, politely reaching to shake hands with their brazen interviewer. It was all either of them could do to remain smiling as they exited, walking silently out to Chester’s car. Neither of them spoke until they were well on their way back to Rob’s.

“Well… there’s that,” Mike sighed, looking out the passenger window. “We’re going to get asked that at every stop until this tour is over.”

“Probably,” Chester agreed easily. “It’s really not that big of a deal. So we just say ‘no comment’ and move on. We’re not confirming or denying anything.”

“That’s just it, Ches. I’m ready to confirm it.” Chester glanced over at him quickly, then focused back on his driving. “I know, you think I’m crazy. Just a few weeks ago I was losing my mind over what people would think, but now… I just… I don’t give a _fuck_. What gives anyone the right to tell us how to live our lives? Dave was right. We’ve never cared what anyone thought about our albums, and we’ve put out some amazing work. It might not have been received as well as we would have liked initially, but it’s always come through on its own merit. I have to believe that you and I will be the same way. There will be plenty of people who look down on us at first for breaking up our marriages, for leaving our kids…” Mike swallowed, emotional as he always became when speaking of his children. “But… I really believe that our relationship is going to be accepted. You’ve seen all that shit online. Half the fans think we’re secretly together anyway. I’m just tired of hiding. And we are _months_ away from being able to live our truth.”

Eyes on the road, Chester reached over for Mike’s hand. As soon as their fingers linked, Chester squeezed Mike’s fingers, smiling at the road in front of them. “I love how much you’ve changed your opinion of us in the past month, Mike. I love that you’re ready to throw caution to the wind and say fuck everyone and just put it all out there… but, patience, Mikey. March will be here before you know it, and we’ll be signing mortgages and decorating kids rooms and taking family vacations. But you know as well as I do, when we get back from Hawaii, there’s a lot of work to be done for all of those things to become a reality. The best things come to those who wait, you know? We’ve waited almost twenty years. We can make it another few months. Breathe.”

Mike squeezed Chester’s hand back, sighing, “I know… I know… I’m just tired of all the deceit. I thought it would get easier after Anna knew about us… but it seems like there’s always some new, ridiculous thing we have to deal with. Just because we’re Linkin Park.”

“Ah, the price of fame,” Chester chuckled. 

“Indeed,” Mike said, looking out the window again. “All because you’re Chester fuckin’ Bennington.”

“Whatever, Mike, don’t you put this all on me!” Chester slapped his hand away playfully and Mike just laughed, the tension in his body easing just a little. He was ready to get on the road and finish up this tour, cross one more thing off the list that had to be completed before they could really, truly be together.


	36. Pictures

Brad stood in front of his wardrobe, mentally discarding shirt after shirt. Nothing felt right, not the clothes, not his hands, certainly not his mental focus. He could hear Chester in the hallway, yelling his way through his vocal warm-ups, and Mike playing chords on the keyboard in the room next to where he was standing. Even though he usually managed to tune it out, the sound of Rob chopping out on the pad in the corner for the last twenty minutes was starting to get on his nerves. 

He turned to say something about the repetitive drum warm up right as Dave came to stand next to him, considering his clothing options as well. Closing his mouth and frowning at the sight of Joe strolling through the room without a care in the world, a donut in both hands, Brad turned back to his shirt options. 

“You okay?” Dave asked softly, reaching for a plaid button down.

Brad sighed. “I guess. Everything just feels off. I guess I’m just anxious with everything that’s been going on the past two days. It’s like, non-stop speculation about Mike and Chester. I don’t understand why this is so fucking interesting to everyone. Nothing has changed. The show is going to be exactly the same as it was before they started fucking.” 

Dave cocked his head to the side at Brad’s bitter tone, but he completely understood where Brad was coming from. Tonight, in Seattle, was to be their first show since the news of Mike and Chester’s divorces hit the media. It had been an epic shit-storm of gossip, and those pictures of the on stage kiss were plastered all over everywhere. The six of them were firmly entrenched in their mantra: ‘no comment.’ “You know how it is, people just wanting to stir stuff up. It will blow over. We’re not talking. There’s nothing to see.”

“That’s just it. You don’t think that them acting differently on stage isn’t going to add fuel to the fire? If they _don’t_ touch each other? If they _don’t_ flirt with each other? That’s half their stage presence, that’s the reason why it shouldn’t even matter at this point, that shit’s been going on for so long… it’s normal. And if they start acting differently tonight, we might as well light a neon sign behind us that says “Bennoda” is Real.” Brad used his fingers for air quotations and as the drumming behind him stopped, peeked back at Rob to see Joe passing a donut off to the drummer, Rob’s face brightening with delight. Scowling, Brad commented, “Rob has the worst eating habits. He does not make a very good vegetarian.”

“It’s just Joe’s influence. He does better when he’s hanging out with you,” Dave added with sincerity, though he was secretly hoping that the compliment might improve Brad’s demeanor.

It did not.

“Mike and Chester being at his house isn’t helping either. I think he may have even eaten bacon…” 

Dave sighed. “Maybe we need to talk to them then, if you’re that worried about it. The stage stuff, not the bacon,” he clarified. “‘No comment’ can’t turn into ‘no contact’ or you’re right, they’re going to make it worse than it is.” He picked up a hat and tried it out before tossing it back in his wardrobe. “Just pick a damn shirt, Delson, and come over here with the donut lords and let’s talk through it.” He poked his head out in the hall and yelled for Chester and Mike to join them.

Frustrated, Brad closed his eyes and stuck his hand in the wardrobe, choosing a shirt and yanking it off the hanger, pulling it over his head without looking at it as he heard Mike and Chester enter the dressing room.

“Man! I’m ready to go!” Chester shouted, fist pumping the air as he danced into the room, Mike following behind grinning ear to ear. Chester turned around and slapped Mike in the rear, and Mike just laughed, same as he always had. 

Dave glanced across the room at Brad, who was yanking the shirt lower and coming over to join them all. He lifted his eyebrows as if to say, ‘see? They’re acting the same as always.’

“What’s going on, you guys?” Mike managed to get out between laughs, reaching for Chester and barely swatting him in the arm. “We’ve still got plenty of time, it’s not time for huddle yet.”

Rob looked up, popping the last bit of donut in his mouth and licking his thumb, catching Brad’s look of disappointment and smiling up at him tentatively. Joe’s donut was long gone. He flopped out on the floor, arms behind his head. “Yeah, what’s up, Dave?”

“Well, while you were defiling Bourdie with sugar and lard,” Joe looked away from Dave with shame in his eyes, “Brad and I were talking about the show tonight. Wondering how that’s going to go with you guys,” he said, pointing at Mike and Chester.

“Us?” Chester said with surprise. “What about us? I’m pumped, man, ready to go! It’s gonna be awesome!”

Brad rolled his eyes. “We were wondering if you guys had given any thought to how you act on stage. You know… the flirting and stuff. I think it would call things into question more if you were trying to avoid all that. I mean… you’re still going to do that, right?”

Mike looked at brad quizzically. “It’s not like we _try_ to do those things, Brad, they just sort of… happen naturally.” Mike looked at Chester, his smile softening as he reached for him, pulling his hyperactive vocalist flush against his side. “We’re not changing anything. Same old Mike Shinoda and Chester Bennington as always.” He wanted to kiss Chester badly right at that moment, but restrained himself. As laid-back as the guys had been about his and Chester’s relationship, he didn’t think it wise to push the limits. 

“Ugh,” Brad groaned, reading the look on Mike’s face, “ _do not_ kiss him right now, Shinoda.”

“Why not? Get it out of the way before the show!” Joe exclaimed excitedly, waggling his eyebrows lewdly. “Better in front of us than the crowd, and all those cameras.”

“Contrary to what you guys think, I _can_ play a whole set without jumping Chester’s ass,” Mike protested, softening his words with his hand smoothing over Chester’s backside.

“Just for that…” Chester pounced, wrapping his hands around Mike’s neck. “Avert your eyes, Delson,” he ordered, pulling Mike’s lips to his. 

Nobody actually looked away. 

Joe leaned up on his elbows for a better view, the smile fading as he watched the two vocalists melt into each other. Rob peered through his glasses thoughtfully. Dave turned a healthy shade of pink. And Brad… Brad stood staring at the couple, his mouth dropping open slightly as he inhaled a shaky breath, his eyebrows furrowing in disbelief. Dave’s eyes skittered over to Brad’s face, and he couldn’t understand why the guitarist was mesmerized by what was happening in front of him. Mike’s hands’ had found Chester’s hips and pulled him in close once he realized Chester wasn’t giving up their kiss soon. He was giving the guys a show. Flush against each other, the kiss lasted… and lasted.

Finally, Dave cleared his throat and Chester allowed the kiss to break, smiling hugely at Mike, who couldn’t help but return the grin. “Think that’ll hold you for the show, Mikey?”

Looking only at Chester, Mike winked, and was gently pushing him away when his eyes met Brad’s. Neither man said anything but Chester was quick to notice that Mike was no longer looking at him and followed his gaze.

“What’s with you, Brad?” Chester teased, smirking at his expression. “Jealous?”

The air between Mike and Brad seemed to thin as Brad shook his head no to Chester’s comment without even cracking a smile. What should have gone on to spawn a few lighthearted jabs back and forth fizzled with Brad’s lack of response to Chester’s question, Brad refusing to play the game. The three stood watching each other, the atmosphere becoming increasingly tense as nobody said anything. 

Again it was Dave that cleared his throat. “Come on, Brad. Let’s go check up on the techs before the show.” He practically dragged the guitarist out into the hallway as Chester looked back at Mike.

“What was that all about?” Chester narrowed his eyes, looking at Mike. 

Before Mike could answer, Rob stood up from his seat on the couch where he’d been watching everything unfold, stretching his arms back behind his head. “He’s jealous. Mike’s his best friend. He’s always been jealous of you, Chester. I think it’s really getting under his skin that you two are a couple now.”

The look of astonishment on Mike’s face was not lost on Chester. “Well, I guess my comment hit a little too close to home. Makes me want to kiss you again, actually,” Chester said, looking toward the hallway. “Brad has been all over the place with this. I can’t tell if he’s with us or not.”

Mike finally found his voice. “He’s with us, Ches, he’d never go against what I want. I think Rob’s right, it’s just shocking to him. I mean, we’ve known each other since junior high… he’ll come around.” _That sure does feel like lying,_ thought Mike. _I’m going to have to talk to Chester after the show. Brad’s being an idiot._

Out in the hallway, Dave stopped a good distance away from the dressing room and turned on Brad. “What’s going on with you, Brad? You’re not yourself.”

Brad passed a hand over his face tiredly. “I’m fine. I’ll _be_ fine.” He glanced at Dave’s worried face and shrugged. “It’s just… weird seeing them together. It doesn’t bother you?”

Dave shook his head slowly. “They’ve always been close, you know, and way more physical than the rest of us. I guess we all grew out of that before we turned thirty, that way of manhandling each other and roughhousing and stuff… and they just… I don’t know. It changed. It never struck me as strange, but looking back, you can see a sort of intimacy develop between them. Even if there was nothing going on back then,” he was sure to add as Brad looked at him thoughtfully.

“It was around _Minutes to Midnight_ ,” Brad pointed out. “It’s because of Chester’s divorce, all that writing they did getting through that, coming out of that time… I wonder if Chester would have married Talinda if he’d known Mike would be so… willing.”

Laughter shook Dave. “Willing? Mike? No way, not back then, anyway. They wouldn’t have spent ten years sleeping in the same bed without fooling around if Mike had been willing. That man didn’t have a bone in his body that would have allowed him to hook up with another dude.” Dave shook his head, still smiling. “Mike’s always been the straightest guy I know.”

The little snort of disbelief Brad made under his breath caused Dave to look at him closer. Brad ducked his head and looked at the floor.

“Brad?” Realization slammed into Dave full force. “ _Oh. My. God. Brad._ ”

Brad looked up with tears in the corners of his eyes. “I don’t want to talk about it,” he stated flatly, starting to walk further down the hall. 

Dave grabbed him by the arm, forcing him to turn back, and Brad’s face was flushed and miserable. “When? Jesus, Brad, really? When?”

Brad waved a hand in the air between them, trying to dismiss the entire conversation. “High school. A long fucking time ago. It didn’t mean anything then and it doesn’t matter now. I’m fine.”

The breath he’d been holding rushed out of Dave’s lungs at Brad’s admission. “That’s why you’ve been so pissed off this whole time. That morning at breakfast… the meeting at the hotel… Brad, are you serious? How could you guys have kept this from us all these years?”

Sensing that there was no way out of the conversation, Brad pulled Dave into a smaller room off the main hall, shutting the door behind him. Sighing nervously, he dragged his hands over his hair and looked around the room. “I’m telling you, it’s not a huge deal, just everything with Mike and Chester has been shocking. I thought Mike had settled down into his life with Anna, the kids… I could never imagine him just throwing it all away. And for _Chester_.” He knew the bitterness was slicing through his voice when he said Chester’s name, and he was ashamed of himself. Chester was one of his closest friends as well, and he did love and respect him as much as his other bandmates. It was just hard… all the emotions were so unexpected and so complicated.

“Mike and I…” his voice faded off for a minute as he thought about what he wanted to reveal. “We messed around a few times in high school, stupid shit really, we’d go up on the roof at his place and drink a little bit, it only took a little bit, we were only sixteen… he was my closest friend, somewhere those lines got blurred, and we’d make out a bit, nothing too heavy…” Brad’s cheek were burning in embarrassment. “Mike started to want more and I… I said no. There was no way my parents would have accepted us. It hurt Mike and we were on the outs for a few weeks until I got him to see my side of things. I had everything set up, you know? UCLA… I knew I was going to get a lot of scholarship money, I had a path set. And Mike did too, and I got him to understand that everything would just go to shit if we decided to be together… so we agreed to just bury it. Go on and do what everyone expected of us, wives, kids, all that… I had no idea our lives would turn into this,” he waved his hand around again, “and that we’d be together our whole fucking lives anyway. And you know? It was enough until I found out about him and Chester… and now, it’s just… so much regret. It could have been us, Dave, you know? We could have been that happy.”

It took several moments for Dave to collect himself, all the information Brad had disclosed swirling about in his head. “But… you love your wife!” 

Brad nodded his head. “I do. And I love my children. And I love what we do. I’m not going to do anything stupid, anything to fuck it all up. That was a lot of my frustration with them initially, just- what if it all went wrong? What if they fucked up everything we’ve worked for and their own lives too? I mean, I’m glad it’s not turning out that way… so far. I just want to get to the finish line without any major catastrophes.” He looked at Dave, a little more in control of his emotions now. “That includes this… Dave, you can’t say anything. Mike hasn’t told Chester about us.”

“Secrets never last long in this band,” Dave warned him. “I’m surprised it’s taken this long.”

“Well, I hadn’t given it much thought until I knew they were together… it just all kind of hit me at once.” Brad tugged at his shirt, looking down with a frown. “This shirt sucks.”

“You look fine,” Dave assured him. “You gonna be okay tonight? You were right about everything needing to be the same, normal. You can do that too?”

Brad snickered ruefully as they headed back toward the dressing room. “Of course I can. I do a _much_ better job of compartmentalizing my emotions than Mike. I’ve got this. Come on, it’s time for huddle. Let’s go get this done.”

***********

The evening had gone off without a hitch, the chemistry was there between Mike and Chester without it being too much. To Dave’s relief, Brad had been professional under his watchful eye. There were no kisses on stage or over the top comments, and everyone left the stage after the show euphoric. It was far better than they’d ended the previous leg of the tour. 

By the time Mike got Chester alone, it was far past the ending of the show and the venue was empty. There was just crew and the band left, and Mike carelessly thought he’d found a corner outside that nobody could see them in, as he pressed his body against Chester’s, savoring the contact he’d been craving the entire back half of the set. Hands on Chester’s hips, he pressed the sweaty vocalist against the wall, ravishing his neck with short, sharp kisses.

“Jesus, Ches, I can’t wait to get you back to the hotel. You fuckin’ turn me on so much on stage,” he whispered as he pushed his hips forward, relishing the quiet moan from Chester’s mouth as his hands came up into Mike’s hair, pulling their mouths together desperately.

A distance away, three soft clicks of a long range camera took three grainy but damning pictures of Mike’s hands on Chester’s ass, Chester’s hands in Mike’s sweaty hair, Mike and Chester’s lips interlocked in post-show euphoria. Both vocalists were completely unaware.

Satisfied that the pictures were good enough, the cameraman backed quietly away, determined to get out of the area before he was caught. He’d been waiting long enough for these photos, it was late and he was ready to go. He knew these would be worth a ton of money, and he was delighted. Once he was back at his car and safely inside, he dug his phone out of his pocket, and started the process of seeing which tabloid would give him the most money.


	37. Missed Calls

Rob had just settled next to the window for his morning meditation when there was a light knock at the door. Frowning slightly, he walked over and looked through the viewing hole, surprised to see Brad in long sleeved button down plaid pajamas outside when he opened the door. Before he could even ask why Brad was knocking on his door in pajamas at seven in the morning, the guitarist walked past him and stood in the middle of the room, waving his phone at Rob’s face.

“The tabloids know about Mike and Chester. They’ve got pictures. Real ones.” 

Rob raised an eyebrow, shutting the door and reaching for Brad’s phone. “How do you always find this stuff out before the rest of us?”

“Elisa. I think she gets notifications from some of those gossip sites? Maybe? I don’t know. She called me this morning. _Called._ I knew it was serious when my phone was ringing before breakfast.”

The article was a follow-up to the one posted earlier in the week, accompanied by new exclusive! pictures of Mike and Chester grinding on each other outside the venue. “Well, damn,” Rob breathed out, “there’s no way out of this one. There’s nothing we can do about this, no amount of damage control is going to sweep this under the rug.” He looked at Brad. “We need to get Joe and Dave, looks like a band meeting is on the agenda for this morning. I think the four of us need to talk this over before we involve Chester and Mike, so let’s go get them. We need a new plan. I don’t know if ‘no comment’ will really cut it at this point.”

Brad shook his head. “I don’t know what we’re going to do. I can’t believe this.” He followed Rob out into the hall, his eyes fixed on one of the pictures in the article. It was dark, obviously very zoomed in, but it was definitely Mike pushing Chester against the wall, Chester’s hands in Mike’s hair and his head thrown back as Mike kissed his neck. Brad couldn’t stop looking at the picture. 

Dave was returning from a run when they ran into him in the hall, and he fell into step beside Brad as they followed Rob to Joe’s room. Looking over Brad’s shoulder, a low “wow” escaped from his mouth in a huff as his eyes landed on the picture. “You okay?” he asked softly, trying to keep Rob from hearing his question while he was rousing Joe from his room.

“Yeah,” Brad mumbled, transfixed on the photo. “I can’t believe they’d be so careless.”

“What’s going on?” Joe asked, his eyes wide. It wasn’t typical for any of them to see each other before breakfast. In his opinion, an aura of doom lingered around the whole meeting. 

“It’s out. For sure this time,” Rob answered grimly. “Somebody got pictures of Mike and Chester outside the venue last night. They’re already published. It’s not good.”

Joe swept his hair back away from his face and exhaled loudly. “That sucks. But… maybe this is stupid, but… what difference does it make? All the tabloids were already printing shit about them anyway.”

“It matters because they are both in the middle of divorce proceedings, and this proves they’re cheating on their wives. Before it was just speculation. Now it’s for real,” Dave explained, “and it could affect their settlement and custody agreements. We need to tell them before someone else does.”

It didn’t seem catastrophic to the deejay, and Joe wasn’t easily persuaded. “So… it doesn’t really affect us as a band, and Anna and Talinda both already knew about them. I don’t get it. What’s the big deal?”

There was a pause, and all eyes turned to Brad. He was the one who had alerted the others, so they looked at him for the answer. What Joe had said was logical. Why were they all awake, in Joe’s room, in pajamas, when none of what had happened was new information?

“You guys… they’re our friends. Our best friends. Our brothers. Don’t you think we should be the ones to let them know their secret is out? It might be a big deal to them.” Brad looked around appealingly, his phone screen fading to black. They should hear it from us.”

After a moment, Dave nodded his agreement. “It might be easier to hear, coming from us. The past few months have been pretty stressful for them, all of the secrecy… I mean, you’re right, Joe, for us it’s no big deal. But it might be for the fan base, for their families. I would hate for my family to find something like this out about me before I had a chance to tell them.”

Rob started toward the door. “Ok, then we all agree. Let’s go wake their asses up and tell them the news,” he directed.

They made their way down the hallway, and Rob knocked lightly on Mike’s door.

Mike could hear the knocks at the door to his hotel room, but he just didn’t care. He didn’t need to shower, he didn’t need to eat, everything he needed was in bed with him at the moment. Chester was curled in front of him, warm and solid, blissfully asleep after their late night. Smiling sleepily and picturing Chester’s face in his mind when Mike had him trembling and crying his name as they fell apart together last night, he was burying his face against Chester’s neck when the knocking started up again. Louder, more insistent knocks, and this time, Chester stirred.

“Who in the _fuck_ is knocking on the door right now?” he asked grumpily, grabbing the pillow and covering his face with it. Whatever he said next was muffled so much by the pillow Mike couldn’t understand him.

Mike felt on the table for his glasses, sliding them on and grabbing his boxers off the floor as the knocking continued. Reaching for his phone, he shouted out, “just a minute!” in the direction of the door, struggling into his boxers as he hit the home button, trying to check the time. It was almost eight o’clock, but that didn’t matter much when Mike saw he had eight missed calls. “What the fuck? Chester, wake up, something’s happened.” 

Grumbling, Chester took the pillow off his head. “Yeah, I’ll tell you what’s _about_ to happen. I’m about to kill whoever keeps knocking on our door.”

“No, really, I think something is wrong. I’ve got a bunch of missed calls… check your phone, I’m gonna see who’s at the door.”

He opened the door to the rest of the band, who entered the room without an invitation. Everyone except Dave was still in pajamas, which was unusual, given that Brad was a stickler for 8:30 AM breakfast. Mike looked around for a shirt, scanning through the clothing scattered all over the floor for something that belonged to him.

“Here,” Joe said, scooping a shirt off the chair where it had landed the night before and tossing it his direction, “this one looks like yours.”

A blush crept over Mike’s cheeks. “Thanks.” Even though they’d broken the barrier and kissed in front of the band, the state of their room was an embarrassing mess of his previous night with Chester, and it was obvious what had occurred after everyone said goodnight and retreated to their rooms. Mike glanced around, hoping that nothing worse than discarded clothing was visible to his bandmates. 

Dave stood with his hands on his hips. “Tell me why we spend money on two rooms for you guys?” he asked pointedly, motioning to the bed where Chester was sitting up, his naked lower half covered with sheets. 

“What the fuck is going on? Why the fuck are you all in here, it’s fucking eight in the morning,” Chester exclaimed, fumbling for his glasses and his phone, as Mike had instructed. Sliding them on his nose, he said, “why so many missed calls? What’s going on?” He started to unlock his phone to see who had called when Brad answered his question.

“You two!” Brad admonished, “the fucking tabloids have pictures of you two groping each other outside the venue last night! How could you be so stupid?”

Rob stepped forward and placed his hand on Brad’s arm as if to say, enough. While Brad struggled to get his emotions in check, Rob took over, calmly stating, “it’s out, you guys. There’s no doubt the pictures are you, and it’s not the kind of kiss we can write off the way we did the last one. It’s too… passionate,” Rob concluded, his eyes wide with anxiety. 

“Are you fucking serious?” Mike’s eyes were wide as well, trying to process the information he was getting from his bandmates. “There was nobody there, I swear, it was late-”

“Just stop,” Brad dismissed his excuses with the wave of a hand. He took a deep breath and tried to sound credible as he explained, “we’re not mad, but we need a plan. This is huge already.”

“Yeah,” Joe added into the conversation, “LPU has blown up.”

“Oh my God,” Mike dropped onto the corner of the bed, his face in his hands. “What does it say?”

Joe was smirking as he thumbed through the thread list. “Believe it or not, you guys are getting a lot of support. There’s a lot of stupid fangirl bullshit about how you guys are _sooooo perrrrfect_ for each other, but there’s also some rationally presented arguments for you… and some passionate ones against all of us.” Joe frowned. “They think we’re all a bunch of homosexuals now. Only some of them are using much more vulgar words to describe us...”

“Oh my God,” Mike frantically said again, unwilling to look up. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry you guys, I didn’t-”

“Calm down, Mike.” Dave sat next to Mike on the edge of the bed and put his arm around his shoulders. “We just wanted to tell you first, before anyone else did. Like Brad said, we’re not mad.” The other guys nodded in agreement.

“Everybody knows anyway,” Chester confirmed from behind them, his face bent over his phone. I have missed calls from literally everyone. Tali, Sam, my _mom_ ” he made a face, “my lawyer… kinda early for my lawyer to be calling… whatever… Sam again, Tali again, Sam again…” He looked at Mike. “You’ve got some too?”

Wearily, Mike shook his head. “Mostly my parents. Jason. Anna… several times. Fuck…” he breathed out, looking around at the sympathetic looks on the guys faces. “What are we going to do now?”

“We were hoping you had an idea,” Rob mumbled. “PR won’t be much help, I’m sure. I’m surprised they aren’t calling.”

As if on cue, there was a knock at the door, and everyone looked around the circle, the unspoken question among them-- who would possibly be at the door? Everyone was in the room. 

Groaning, Mike slid off the bed and went to the door, surprised to find their stage manager Jim on the other side. “Don’t any of you guys answer your phones? I’ve called every one of you.” He looked around at the various states of undress among the band with confusion on his face.

“We’ve been… meeting…” Dave said. “What can we do for you, Jim?”

There were no wasted words on pleasantries as Jim directly addressed the matter at hand. “I need you all to pack up and get downstairs in the next fifteen minutes. We’re not flying to Vancouver anymore, we’re driving. There’s no way I’m getting you guys on a commercial flight the morning the world wakes up to pictures of their secret fantasy come true. The airport will be crawling with paparazzi and junk reporters. Not to mention the crazy fans that have wanted you two together for years,” he pointed at the bed where Mike had sat back down next to Chester. “You two are really making my job hard right now.”

Before either of them could apologize, Joe whined, “fifteen minutes? No breakfast? It’s not fair we don’t get to eat just because of Mike and Chester!”

“I’ll have someone run out for donuts,” Jim said, and Joe fist pumped the air while Brad scowled. “Don’t worry, somebody will get some fruit or something for you and Bourdon,” he added when he saw Brad’s face, who then looked satisfied while Rob tried to hide his disappointment. “Fifteen minutes. We need to get out of here.”

After Jim left, Mike stood up, trying to take control over the situation, motioning to the door. “You heard him. Fifteen minutes, you guys need to go get your stuff, we’ll meet you downstairs.” 

Everyone started to make their way to the door, anxious to get on the road. Brad was the last one out the door, and he turned back to Mike just in time to catch Chester’s completely naked ass walking into the bathroom. With a faint blush, he mumbled, “catch you downstairs in a few.”

Mike shut the door behind him, adrenaline spiking as he tossed his and Chester’s things into suitcases. He could hear Chester brushing his teeth as he pulled out clean clothes and found a hat to wear. There was no time for hair at the moment. They didn’t speak as they moved about the room, preparing to leave, the easy, relaxed atmosphere from the night before gone.

Right before they walked out the door, Chester caught Mike with both arms around his waist, pulling him in for a hug. “You okay?” Chester’s eyes were concerned behind his glasses.

Mike reached up and tugged the gray beanie down on Chester’s forehead as he responded, “yeah. I’ll be fine. I’m just thinking of all the calls I have to return… I guess it’s a good thing we’re driving instead of flying. Maybe I can knock some of it out on the road.”

Chester nodded. “I’ve got some calls to make too. I’ll be damned if Sam isn’t blowing up my fucking phone.” He rolled his eyes and Mike frowned as he lowered his lips to Chester’s.

Distracted, thinking over what they could possibly say to ease the news to their families when everyone had already seen the pictures, when everyone already knew what was happening between them, they kissed briefly before grabbing bags and making their way out the door. 

***********

Several hours and many phone calls later, they were in another hotel room in Vancouver, relaxing for an hour before they had to get ready for the night’s performance. Chester dropped his bags directly inside the door and fell on the bed, an arm over his eyes. “Fuck, I’m tired,” he whined. 

Mike wasn’t feeling great either. He’d had several emotional conversations with his parents and his brother, none of which had gone particularly well and had mostly consisted of him apologizing for bringing shame to their family. It was not the way he’d wanted them to find out about his relationship with Chester, but there wasn’t much he could do about it now. The only solace was found in the fact that there was nothing left to hide. Everyone knew about him and Chester. He’d briefly spoken to Anna, who just sounded tired before handing the phone off to the kids to say hello. 

Laying down next to Chester, Mike curled onto his side and put his hand on Chester’s stomach. Without looking at him, Chester’s hand came up to cover his, linking their fingers together. For a long while they lay together, Mike watching Chester’s breaths rising and falling, their hands moving up and down as well. Finally, he whispered, “I’m sorry, Ches. I wasn’t thinking last night. How was Talinda?”

“Nothing new to her. I’ve been very straightforward about all of this with her. Sam was the one that was being ridiculous. All of that “I always knew there was something going on between you two” bullshit that I knew she’d get into.”

“I didn’t hear you say much to her,” Mike said.

“Nah, I just let her get it off her chest. I’m sure she’ll be scooping TMZ some shit about how you and I were really fucking back when she and I were married or something equally stupid… I can’t believe I put up with her as long as I did,” he lamented, bringing his arm down and looking at Mike. “Anyway, it looks like you got what you wanted, Mikey. It’s all out there now. So what do you want to do? What do you want to say? Whatever we do right now could make or break this news for the band, the fans. Our families all know, so… what’s our public statement going to be?”

Sighing, Mike moved closer to Chester until their foreheads were touching. “I don’t know yet, Ches. We’ve got to think of something before tonight, though. We need to say something before the show.” He paused, thinking, then went on, “we could Instagram Live it… an announcement or something.”

Chester snorted in disbelief, mocking up their voices for an announcement. “Hey you guys, this is Mike and Chester from Linkin Park. We just wanted to let you know that we’ve seen the pictures of us making out last night, and we wanted to say, yeah, they’re real. Yeah, we’re fucking. Get over it.” He mimed dropping the mic and grinned at Mike. 

Mike giggled. “The guys would kill us.” 

“Probably,” Chester agreed, laughing as well. “But maybe you’re on the right track. Maybe we just own it, then nobody will feel the need to keep digging for stuff. Maybe we can get the guys together with us to proclaim their heterosexuality. Joe seemed fairly upset with all of that.”

Tears were falling from the corners of Mike’s eyes he was laughing so hard imagining their bandmates defending their love for women on a livestream. “Oh my God, could you imagine, Ches? The guys all defending themselves while we’re over here like, yeah, we’re into each other now, no more women for us!” Mike was gasping for breath, the unlikely scenario making his sides hurt with laughter. 

“Imagine all the disappointed groupies,” Chester added.

“Nah, they’d probably all be keen to watch,” Mike laughed before sobering up quickly. “They probably would, Ches. Damn. We’re going to have to be careful, there’s going to be paparazzi trying to catch us out all the time once we come out officially.”

Chester just shrugged. “Fine, whatever. Any damage that’s going to be done to our court cases is done, now. I’m sure it will all be fine. We’re giving the girls everything, and nobody can say we aren’t great dads. I didn’t want it all out there beforehand, but now that it’s done… well, there’s nothing we can do about it now except own it.” He smiled slyly. “I _do_ own you, Shinoda.”

A shiver passed over Mike’s body as Chester’s lips grazed his mouth. “Yes, you do,” he husked, not surprised in the least when his body responded to Chester’s light kiss instantly. “Ugh, Ches, we don’t have time for this right now…” he breathed out even as he pulled Chester to him. “We’ve got to make a statement…”

“How’s _this_ for a statement,” Chester mumbled as he shifted on top of Mike, grinding his hips into the emcee. “A private statement before our public statement…” he added as he lifted Mike’s shirt from his body and they fell into each other, anxious to release the day’s frustrations. The official statement was going to have to wait.


	38. Statement

“M-m-m-miiiiike Shinoda!!!” Chester exclaimed as he sauntered naked into the room from his shower. It was at least the millionth time Mike had hear him sing that same phrase, and he didn’t even look up from where he was hunched over the screen of his Macbook, typing, reading, erasing, then re-typing, his expression intense. “Awww, Mikey, how can you ignore me?” Chester whined with a pout, hands on his hips in mock indignation.

Mike looked up briefly and smiled at Chester’s expression, reaching out to playfully smack him in the ass as he looked back at the screen. “Stop trying to be a distraction, I told the guys we’d have a statement for them to look at before tonight’s show.” He pointed at the screen. “What do you think?”

Chester leaned over his shoulder and read what Mike had typed. “Wow. It’s short.”

“Well, no need to get into the gory details, right? I mean… you said, and I quote, ‘there’s nothing we can do about it now except own it.’ I’m owning it,” Mike reasoned, reading over the statement he’d written again.

“Ah, yes, right before I reminded you that I own you,” Chester purred, “and I soooo just did, too.”

Biting his lip, Mike smiled at Chester’s seductive tone, “ _yeah you did._ ” His eyes moved appreciatively over the vocalist’s body as he lamented, “you’ve got to stop trying to distract me, I swear, Ches… you’re so fuckin’ hot.” Refocusing himself with some effort, he asked, “really. What do you think?”

“It’s good, it’s good… says something without saying anything. It’s like you work in our PR department.” The jab at how useless their public relations department had been during the whole fiasco was not lost on Mike. 

“So you’re saying it’s really not that good?” Mike quipped.

Chester grinned at him. “No comment.” Making his way over to the suitcase, he groaned. “I can’t believe we have to be in the van in an hour. Where did this day go?”

It was Mike’s turn to grin. “Well, we _did_ have to drive instead of fly. And then once we got here, something distracted me and suddenly an hour had disappeared. Just like that.” His flirty eyes caused Chester to abandon the suitcase in favor of sitting in Mike’s lap. 

“I bet I can cause you to lose another hour,” he mumbled as he feathered kisses along Mike’s neck.

Mike’s hands smoothed along Chester’s back as he leaned his head to the side, enjoying the attention. It was tender and sweet, a sharp contrast to the experience of Chester riding him a half hour ago, biting his skin and leaving love marks all over his chest. “No, we’ve got to get the guys to look over this so we can get it out there. Damn, Ches… stop…” he demanded half-heartedly, with no willpower behind his words. “I’m serious…”

One last kiss to his lips, and Chester slid off Mike’s lap. “I totally own you,” he celebrated, his eyes sparkling and his expression joyful.

“Not gonna deny it,” Mike said, reaching for his phone, “but we’ve got a job to do. Me wanting your tight little ass all the time can’t get in the way of a good show, you know.”

“The show must go on!” Chester’s fist rose into the air and Mike laughed as he fired off a group text.

2:02 PM _(Mike) Got a statement ready. Come to my room_

2:03 PM _(Joe) Wow, that took forever._

2:03 PM _(Mike) Got distracted. Come on_

2:04 PM _(Dave) If your room looks like it did this morning, no thanks ;)_

2:04 PM _(Brad) Agree with Dave_

2:04 PM _(Rob) Everyone to my room_

2:05 PM _(Mike) It’s fine but whatever_

Rising from the chair, Mike grabbed his laptop and motioned to the door. “Rob’s room, you better finish getting dressed faster. They’re gonna know what we’ve been doing.”

“Who cares?” Chester rolled his eyes, buttoning his jeans quickly and pulling a t-shirt over his head as Mike started out the door. “Wait for me, Mikey!”

“C’mon!”

Two doors down they walked into Rob’s room and Mike sat the laptop on the table in front of Joe. Instantly the other four members of the band were crowded around, reading Mike’s statement as Chester dropped onto the bed with an exasperated sigh. “I don’t even need to be here.”

“Yes, you do,” Mike argued, “it’s _about_ you!”

Chester shrugged and Rob turned to Mike. “I think it’s good. It will work, anyway. It’s not exactly… specific.”

“That’s the beauty of it.” Mike was ready for the hard sell, about to argue his point to the group, when Brad spoke up.

“I think you should add the word ‘together’ here,” he pointed to the end of a sentence. “It admits you guys are together without coming out and saying it… it explains those pictures... at least, I think it does.”

Mike looked around and everyone nodded. Joe typed in the additional word and waited, and Dave was the next to make a suggestion. “Change ‘they’ to ‘we.’ It has us all come across more unified.”

“See, you don’t need me,” Chester called from the bed.

“Hush, you,” Mike tossed over his shoulder. “Listen to it now.” He read the statement aloud, and everyone, including Chester, nodded.

“I like it,” Chester mumbled tiredly. “Joe, post that shit up so I can go take a nap.”

“I thought you already took a nap,” Brad said before the realization hit him. “Oh… nevermind.”

Five minutes later, Linkin Park’s official statement was on every official Linkin Park media platform.

Fifteen minutes later, every credible and non-credible news outlet was sharing their statement and fueling a fan frenzy.

**********

It took all of five days after Linkin Park released the public statement about their frontmen for the media to find something else to worry about.

_Five days._

Mike shook his head as he gazed at Chester in the soft lamplight, still amazed that the only people who still seemed to be discussing his relationship with Chester were the fans. _All of that worry for nothing… all of that hiding, the secrecy, the anxiety… and they’ve already moved on to something else. I guess that’s easy to do with this President and all the other nonsense going on in the country. “Aging rock stars'’ sexuality isn’t all that interesting once everyone knows about it._

_Aging? Fuck. I don’t know why they felt the need to call us ‘aging’. We’re relevant. We had a fucking number one album this year! Aging my ass…_

Glancing at the hotel clock, which read almost five am, Mike gently moved his feet off the side of the bed and stood up, being careful not to jostle Chester. For some reason he couldn’t sleep anymore, which was more unfortunate than usual since it was an off day, the last off day before they returned home to LA. Maybe it was the anticipation of returning home- well, to Rob’s home- that was keeping him awake. Maybe it was the fact they’d been called aging rockstars. Mike shook his head again, annoyed.

//

_**Linkin Park Issue a Statement Regarding Shinoda and Bennington** _

_After details emerged regarding divorce proceedings for both Mike Shinoda and Chester Bennington of Linkin Park, and amid speculation that the aging rock band’s rapper and lead vocalist are in a relationship following the disclosure of several post-performance photos of the pair, Linkin Park have issued an official statement, below:_

_“We would like to put the rumors to rest and put both our families and fans at ease. Both Mike and Chester expect to finalize divorce proceedings in early 2018, and we ask you to respect the privacy of their families. We plan to continue our One More Light tour until we complete the shows in Japan, and the band will take a short break while Mike and Chester reorganize and build their lives together. Thank you for your support, we look to be back on the road for new stops in the summer of 2018.”_

It was direct but ambiguous enough, and surprisingly, all six of them had agreed on every single word. Everything had blown up after the release of their statement, people hounding the six of them for interviews and on camera comments until Chester finally lost his cool outside the venue in Fresno, where the crowd standing behind the media was yelling ‘Linkin Park’, turning and planting a huge sloppy kiss on Mike in front of the cameras, then yelling, “there! That’s what you wanted to see! Now leave us alone, we’ve got a show to do!” The reporters didn’t know what to say when the crowd erupted in cheers. 

For some reason, that seemed to do the trick, the very fact that they _weren’t_ ashamed and trying to hide their relationship taking the fun out of it for the media. The fans, though… the official statement had initially crashed the LPU server, and the band had to turn the notifications off of their Twitter accounts while the fans lost their minds over the news. Where the media had been skeptical, downright disdainful, a large portion of their fans were either part of the ‘told you so’ group or the ‘it’s about time’ group, and they swiftly outnumbered those fans who were turned off by the news. Some of the online debate had gotten ugly in the beginning, but it seemed that most of the fans either didn’t care as long as the music was good, or were so crazy in love with the idea of Mike and Chester being in love that nothing else was existing in their world.

Where Mike and Chester were trying to keep their heads down and ignore the hysteria, Joe was fascinated by the response to the whole thing, keeping tabs on the LPU boards, as well as the outside news media, reporting back to the band the most relevant of what was happening outside of their enclosed tour world.

Rob and Dave were amazed at how readily Mike and Chester’s secret relationship had been accepted by the fans, and although neither of them said it out loud, they were a little disappointed that more had not been said in defense of either of the wives or any of the six children directly involved in the mess. The exact opposite was true with the media, some sleazy reporters going so far as to try to get statements from Anna and Talinda. There was definitely a faction of fans who had vehemently expressed their disappointment in the two frontmen, but the support given out was overpoweringly understanding. Dave had glanced through some of the LPU comments; how inspiring it was to see Mike and Chester finally go for it and follow their hearts; how important it was to make your own happiness; how excited they were to see how it would all play out, and all the speculation over what Mike and Chester as an actual couple might look like.

As their closest friends, the other four members of the band still had nagging doubts behind all of the events of the past several months, unspoken concern over the way Mike and Chester had made their decisions- and how quickly- though they all remained steadfastly united in their commitment to support them. Even Brad, who had been a quiet bystander to everything surrounding Linkin Park’s announcement.

//

Mike smiled to himself, thinking of that kiss in Fresno, as he unzipped his suitcase and took out his sketchbook. Maybe if he worked for a little bit he’d be able to fall back asleep for a while. He sat in the chair in the corner, his feet tucked up underneath him, and studied Chester in the amber glow. Because sleep was currently elusive for him, he was envious of the way the vocalist lay curled around his pillow, one arm tucked up underneath and the other stretched in front of him, legs tangled in sheets, comfortably naked after their night together. Mike had noticed Chester slept in his pajamas less and less these days, when he always had pajamas on before they were together. Now, Chester said, pajamas just got in their way. Sometimes he didn’t even bother to take them out of the suitcase. This peaceful early morning sleep that Chester was enjoying was the perfect opportunity for Mike to sketch his back, bare and faintly illuminated.

As he worked, Mike allowed his mind to drift around aimlessly, thinking about the past few nights’ performances, thinking about the solidarity of the band in the past few weeks as they struggled first with the knowledge of his and Chester’s relationship, then with the publicity of it all once everything came out. Publicity made his mind come around to dwell on Anna, even as he drew the long line of Chester’s shoulder blade, and his heart ached a little for what he had given up, what he had done to his family, and he thought about his kids and wondered if they would ever forgive him once they were old enough to piece together what had truly happened. _One day they will understand, they will realize that their mother and I aren’t together because I fell in love with my best friend. My male best friend. Ugh. I hope they don’t end up in years of therapy. Maybe we’ll all be able to get along the way Chester does with his kids’ mothers. Maybe we’ll all take family vacations together. Wow. That’s a lot of kids. Nine kids. Four women. And me and Chester. How fucked up is that?_ Mike rolled his eyes at himself. _You’re ridiculous. The chance of Anna forgiving you enough to go on family vacations is almost zero at this point._

Eventually, his mind tried to seek relief by switching subjects, but that just brought his thoughts around to Brad. Mike hadn’t found the right time to discuss with Chester the dressing room incident in Seattle. It was nagging under his skin, an item on his checklist that had been moved day after day, re-prioritized as other things came along, and now it felt as though it had been too long to bring it back up without the whole incident coming off as more important than it was. Brad had seemed to be standing with them through the media blow up, and Mike admired his old friend even more, knowing what he knew about Brad’s hidden feelings for him. _Hidden feelings, that’s not really what I mean. I can’t say that to Chester. Old feelings. Feelings that are part of our past. Historic feelings. That’s better. Part of our history. That’s what I told him that night in Tampa, it’s part of who we are, our history together. Chester can’t get mad or paranoid about that. It’s history._

He looked down at his work, where the main lines had all been drawn and what he wanted to do next was fill in the intricacies of the tattoos on Chester’s back. Mike squinted and pushed his glasses up before peering at Chester again and deciding to move closer for the detail work. Knees popping- _I am not old!_ \- he stood and stretched, and made his way back over to their bed, slowly and carefully crawling in beside Chester, trying his hardest not to rouse his lover. 

Holding his breath, he waited, watching for signs that he’d woken him. When Chester didn’t move, didn’t even change his slow, methodical breaths, Mike relaxed and leaned up against the headboard, gently shifting the sheet down to get a better view of Chester’s back. Even though he’d seen those tattoos thousands of times, he wanted to get every detail down perfectly. Confident hands worked furiously, committing the art on Chester’s back to his paper. As he was adjusting the shading to match the soft lamplight, Chester stretched lazily and rolled over to face him, his eyes cracking open slightly.

“Whatcha doin?” Chester slurred sleepily, his eyes resting on Mike’s blurry form next to him. It was still earlier than they were accustomed to rising, and there was no reason for Mike to be awake. He stretched and reached for the emcee, who turned his sketchbook around and showed it to Chester.

“Sketching you,” he said softly, hesitating as Chester’s sleepy eyes looked up at him, then placing the book in Chester’s outstretched arm. He looked at the page Mike had been working on, holding it close to his face so he could see it, staring at the paper for a long moment. Silently he reached for his glasses and propped his head up on one hand as he flipped through the pages of Mike’s sketchbook. He’d never been permitted to look through the book, though Mike always carried it with him, wherever they were touring. After a few turns, Chester felt his throat constrict with emotion. It was page after page of small sketches, some incredibly detailed and some hastily drawn, portraits and backgrounds, snapshots of his body; his hand, the tattoo on his calf, his face and his hairstyles in various incarnations, a small sketch of his lips and that lip ring he’d had once upon a time.

“How long have you been doing this?” Chester breathed in wonder, marvelling at the pages of drawings MIke had devoted to him.

Mike looked down at him, almost embarrassed. “I started a long time ago, before us. I’d draw you from my memory. It was a distraction, I guess, a way to be with you while not being with you… I don’t know… it made sense at the time. I draw you to relax my mind. You don’t… think it’s strange… do you?” There was a flicker of hope in Mike’s eyes as he looked at Chester. 

“Oh, Mikey… no… it’s not strange… come back to bed, love, I miss you being close to me.” Chester closed the sketchbook and handed it to Mike. “I love that you do this… though I think you could find a better subject than me.” His face brightened for a moment. “Like, designing some kick ass tattoo for the both of us.” He reached out again as Mike turned to lay the sketchbook on the bedside table, then scooted down in the bed until his head was on the pillow. Chester slung both an arm and a leg over the emcee, pinning him in place on his back, then laid his head down on Mike’s chest. “I can hear your heart beating,” he mumbled, sleep already overtaking him again. 

Mike brushed his lips over Chester’s short hair and responded, “I wish you’d let your hair grow out a little. I like it when it’s got a bit of curl to it.”

“Mmmm-hmmm,” was the response that came from Chester as Mike felt his body relax, and he thought about tattoos, and Chester, and how close they were to finally being together as he held him close, willing himself back to sleep.


	39. Sunset

It was with a collective sigh of relief that the six members of Linkin Park arrived at the airport in Tokyo. The tour that had taken up most of last six months was complete, and they could all agree that despite the drama that had unfolded since they left England, _One More Light_ had truly been their best tour ever. Everyone was looking forward to well-earned time at home with their families, relaxation and vacations at the top of their priority lists, at least for a few weeks. They all knew it wouldn’t be long until Brad and Mike would be itching to get back in the studio, and the flash drive to which the band had been adding their ideas and then passing around to each other would start to become their eighth studio album. But before that could happen, before Mike could lose himself in the magic of creating something completely new from absolutely nothing, there was a promised trip to Hawaii to embark upon.

Chester was a different sort of vacation planner than Mike. Where Mike was methodical, searching for the best deals and scheduling every moment down to perfection, Chester was more of a no expenses barred, no itinerary, do whatever feels good at the time type of vacationer. It had been difficult, but Mike had agreed to let go and let Chester make their arrangements, and true to his promise, they were leaving straight from Tokyo to Honolulu, then to Kauai. Past that, Mike had no idea what to expect, and Chester was surprisingly able to keep the details to himself, even if he looked as though he would explode from the exhilaration of the secrecy as the getaway drew near.

“When are you guys coming back?” Rob turned and asked as they prepared to go through security. 

“We’ll be back on the 18th,” Chester replied, excitement lighting up his entire face as he glanced behind him at Mike, who was deep in conversation with Brad. “You’ll have almost two weeks to yourself before we get back.”

Rob nodded, smiling softly. “I really don’t mind you guys being there… gives me someone else to talk to, you know?”

“You’re a good man, Bourdie. I know you’ll be glad to have your space back when we can finally spend some money again and get our own place.”

Chester and Mike had both been advised- no, _instructed_ \- not to tie any money up in new real estate, even though both divorces seemed to be proceeding rather amicably at the moment. A misplaced moment of revenge, especially in the wake of all the recent publicity, by either woman could cause problems with any property they decided to buy before things were final. Rob had graciously offered to let them stay on at his place until March, when hopefully it was all over and Mike and Chester would be able to spend their remaining money on what they chose. It was certainly easier than trying to find a short term rental, and it was with grateful hearts that they had accepted Rob’s offer, relieved to know they had a place to return after their vacation.

Once everyone was through security the couple parted ways from the rest of the band and the bit of crew they were traveling home with on their flight. There were plenty of high fives, fist bumps, shoulder slaps and laughter to go around before everyone got serious on Mike and Chester. It was their first getaway alone since they had become a couple, and the enormity of the situation wasn’t lost on anyone. Mike and Chester were leaving Japan as one third of Linkin Park, but they’d be returning from Hawaii as two sated lovers who had been afforded the luxury brought about simply by being who they were to spend ten nights alone, together, for the first time, in domesticated bliss.

Hugs were passed around as the six bandmates said their goodbyes. The last embrace was between Brad and Mike, Brad hesitating before whispering close to Mike’s ear, “be careful… and call me when you get back.” Mike nodded as they pulled apart, Brad looking away from him and down the corridor toward the gates. 

“Have fun, be safe,” Dave called as the four walked away, leaving Mike and Chester to find their departure gate. 

With giddy smiles on their faces, Mike and Chester headed off in the opposite direction. 

**********

Almost ten hours had passed in flight, but Chester was ramped up as the location of his secret destination drew closer and closer to becoming reality. He’d had a driver pick them up at the airport and he and Mike were relaxing in the back of the black tinted car, taking in the scenery on the way to “The Spot,” as Chester had taken to calling his secret location. 

It wasn’t the first Island trip for either man, but to Mike it seemed as though all that he saw around him was more vibrant, more alive, with Chester by his side. Everything was lush and green, the tropical climate warm and welcoming, even in November. As he commented on the landscape and vegetation, Mike squeezed Chester’s hand with quiet excitement. “Ches, this is going to be great,” he said in a low tone, close to Chester’s ear, keeping his proclamation private from the driver. “I can’t wait to see The Spot.” 

Chester simply squeezed his hand back and smiled radiantly, refusing to give up any details since he was so triumphantly close to making it all the way without ruining the surprise.

When the driver turned off the main road, Mike felt his heartbeat speed up in anticipation. He knew they were almost there. He didn’t yet realize that the road they were on was a private road, leading to a private, secluded beachfront house. It didn’t sink in until the road ended in a circular drive at the front of a large house surrounded by porches all around, no one else in sight.

“We’re here, this is The Spot! Our secret hideaway for the next ten nights,” Chester affirmed, the corners of his eyes crinkling in a delighted smile at the look of awe on Mike’s face.

“This whole place? Chester, Jesus, this must have cost a fortune!” Mike was impressed and a little embarrassed, it looked like way too much space for just the two of them, and it looked like something that was definitely extravagantly priced.

“The _whole_ place, Mikey. There’s a tennis court, and I’m so gonna kick your ass, a garden- they will provide a chef if you don’t want to cook, even though there’s a fully stocked kitchen- and there’s maid service too… and… the best part is upstairs.” Chester tugged Mike’s hand along behind him as he stepped out of the car, his exuberance rubbing off on Mike. “Let’s get our bags inside and I’ll take you exploring.”

After dragging all of what was mostly Chester’s luggage inside, and once the driver was on his way, Chester and Mike walked the downstairs, taking in the crisp, clean, modern lines of house, the relaxed and neutral colors throughout the rooms, tying all of the decor together neatly. Mike particularly liked the seaglass subway tile in the the kitchen, and they both fawned over the huge sliding glass doors that took up entire walls, allowing the outside to come inside every room. 

“There’s too many bedrooms in this house, Ches!” Mike exclaimed, shaking his head over the extravagance of it all. 

“Think of it as research. We can bring the family here on vacation sometime… relive these first moments together and make some new memories… there’s seven bedrooms in this house, we can bring all the kids and everyone would have plenty of space without being on each other’s nerves.”

As they climbed the stairs to the second floor, Mike said, “I was thinking about family vacations when we were in Chula Vista. Wondering if Anna would ever want to come along, Talinda too… I created this whole world where everyone got along as well after the divorces as they did before, and the kids weren’t confused by the fact that their dads slept in the same bed now-”

“Shhh,” Chester quieted Mike’s rambling with a fingertip to his lips. “Not now, not here… this is going to just be about us this time, okay? I’m sorry I brought it up. I don’t want to bring any of the negative here, any of the fear of the unknown or what our kids will think or any of that… just joy while we’re here, Mikey. Just joy, okay?” 

Mike nodded, about to say more when they stepped into the master bedroom. A wall of windows and another huge sliding glass door greeted him, opening to an incredible view of the ocean, emerald green and turquoise water lapping against the white beach, lush green mountains around the cove, spectacularly breathtaking and quietly secluded.

“How did you find this place?” Mike whispered in awe, walking out onto the upstairs lanai and taking in the view. 

“You’re going to laugh when I tell you,” Chester warned, his grin disarming. Mike couldn’t stop looking at the ocean and Chester continued, “secret beach house dot com.”

Mike couldn’t stop the snort of laughter at the ridiculousness of the supposed website. “Really? You typed in secret beach house dot com and this place just came up?” He glanced at Chester with skepticism, waiting for him to say that he’d really just gotten lucky on a google search or something. Surely it couldn’t be that easy to come up with a place like this, private and perfect.

“Seriously! It was the first thing I tried, right after we talked about escaping to Hawaii and having all the sex on the beach, and I thought, I must find this type of place where we can really be alone, no prying eyes... totally got lucky when it popped right up. I’m not even joking. What do you think?” Chester’s eyes were hopeful as he reached for Mike. “I know you hate not being in control of the planning and I know you think I spent too much money, but… did I do okay? Do you like it, my love?”

Slipping one arm around Chester’s waist, pulling him close, and cupping the other around the back of his head, Mike rested his forehead on Chester’s and whispered, “I _love_ it so much. You did an incredible job, Ches.”

The brightness of the answering smile was blinding and Chester tilted his head and brushed his lips against Mike’s lightly, promising, “the sunset is going to be amazing from up here… and we can watch it from over there…” He pointed to the left, and Mike shook his head and laughed quietly as he took in the iridescent shower tiles surrounding the deep outdoor soaking tub. “I’m going to fill it up and float hibiscus on the water, and you’re going to get in there with me and watch the sunset from up here,” he husked into Mike’s ear. 

Mike shivered as Chester’s warm breath hit his skin. “Well, you’d better get started now, Ches, it’s going to take forever to fill that size tub up…” He looked out over the ocean, at the sun getting lower in the sky. “Why don’t you do that and I’ll see if I can find us something to drink.” For the first time since they’d left Japan that morning, Chester looked slightly troubled. Mike noticed immediately, rubbing his hands along Chester’s sides and asking, “what’s wrong, love?”

Hesitating, and biting his lip, Chester looked at Mike, his warm chocolate eyes impossibly dark, the desire Mike saw in them tying his stomach in knots. “I want… I just was thinking… maybe, if you think it’s okay… we could have a glass of wine together?” He spread his fingers on Mike’s back supplicatingly, unsure what Mike’s response would be. “Just a small one?”

As much as Mike wanted to say yes, he remembered what it was like when Chester started down that road. “Ches… remember, when you had that drink in Birmingham? I promised you I’d help you not make that mistake again. You know that we can’t do that. Chester, I won’t drink with you, I can’t allow you to do something we both know you shouldn’t, that we both know could potentially start a domino effect and mess you up… or mess _us_ up.” 

Chester looked down at Mike’s shoes, tapping one with the toe of his own. “I know… it was just a silly, romantic idea.”

Mike’s heart squeezed a little in his chest as he looked at Chester’s forlorn face, but his resolve was strong when it came to this particular battle. “Look, I’ll make us some of the virgin daiquiris you love, and it will still be silly and romantic. Alcohol doesn’t increase romance, you’re letting those romcoms you watch sell you the wrong idea. Romance is in here,” and Mike pointed at Chester’s temple. “Romance is in your mind, Ches, and my mind, and how we see each other. I don’t need a glass of wine to know I’m in love with you.” Chester looked up, a small smile on his lips, and Mike pressed his lips to Chester’s cheek. “Now go on and fill up that tub, I’ll go see if this place has a blender.”

Before Mike had even crossed the bedroom, he heard Chester start the water. _I’ll never drink alcohol in my own home again… and I’m okay with that._ It was a startling thought, one he hadn’t considered until this very moment, and Mike was surprised to find that he didn’t care about the choice at all. It was such a small sacrifice in the shadow of what it meant to Chester, and Mike was determined that Chester would never have to face down his demons alone. Mike was there now, would always be there, and the weight of the load shared between two was much more bearable than that same weight on the shoulders of one. 

He moved about the kitchen opening cabinets and the refrigerator until he found what he needed, blending together ice, sugar, strawberries, lime juice and lemon juice, pausing to taste and adjust, then pouring the concoction into two tall glasses, adding a straw and garnishing each with a pineapple wedge. Grinning at his masterpiece, he grabbed the glasses and headed back up the stairs.

The sun had sunk lower while the bath water had risen, and Chester turned to him as he came out onto the lanai. He’d floated the flowers on top of the water and it looked and smelled inviting, beckoning them to slide into the water with each other. Despite all the travel of the day, Mike felt invigorated, almost lightheaded with the excitement and relief of finally being alone. He held a glass out to Chester and took a sip of his own. “It’s good, I’m a pro,” he declared, waiting for Chester to try his.

To his surprise, Chester sat the glass on the edge of the tub and turned to Mike, unbuttoning his shirt and letting it drop to the floor. Quick to take the hint, Mike sat his glass down and pulled his t-shirt off over his head, quickly discarding the rest of his clothes as Chester did the same, then standing and looking at the vocalist for a moment, admiring his smooth skin, his six-pack, the beautiful colors inked into his arms and chest. Chester reached his hand out and Mike met him halfway, and they stood with their fingers linked, looking at each other appreciatively. Mike tugged on Chester’s fingers and drew him closer, pressing their naked bodies together, the warm air circulating around them pleasantly. “I feel like such an exhibitionist,” Mike murmured.

He was rewarded with Chester’s laugh. “Be an exhibitionist all you want, Mikey, there’s nobody around for miles. This is the perfect place to just be _free_. C’mon, let’s try this bath out.” As he stepped into the warm water, his hand still in Mike’s, the hibiscus floated gently away on small ripples, and Mike followed behind, sinking down into the water next to him. 

It was relaxing, and Mike allowed his legs to float out in front of him, enjoying the weightlessness of the deep bath, sipping his drink and skipping his eyes over to Chester every few moments. They lounged wordlessly in the water for some time, waiting for the sun’s descent to color the sky, enjoying the loud silence, a silence from other people and things, but full of the wind, the rustling of trees and plants, the call of birds and other creatures. After his drink was gone, Chester sank down to his chin in the water, his eyes fixed over the ocean, mesmerized by the sound of the waves and the vivid colors all around them. Mike could feel Chester’s thigh barely touching his leg, a molecule’s width of warm water between them, and he quietly sat down his glass and slid his hands into the water, warming them before sliding a hand over Chester’s leg and giving him a light squeeze. 

Fluidly, Chester turned to him and hooked his knee over Mike’s waist, lowering the floating legs and perching on Mike’s lap, locking tattooed arms around his neck and dropping a warm, wet kiss to his strawberry sweet lips. Chester’s tongue begged for entrance immediately and Mike was happy to acquiesce, melting into a kiss that became deeper, more intimate, more consuming as the seconds ticked by. Mike slid his hands easily along Chester’s skin under the water, smoothing circles into his backside, pressing their bodies together urgently before Chester broke away, trailing his lips down Mike’s neck.

“Describe the sunset for me,” he breathed between kisses, rocking his hips against Mike’s, their erections bumping and sliding together in the water between their bellies, “paint it in my mind with your words.” 

It was hard to find words when Chester’s lips were moving along his wet skin, sucking and kissing, his whimpering breaths sighing against Mike’s skin. He forced himself to look beyond Chester’s shoulder, out at the sunset stretching in front of him. “Ah… well… on the horizon, there’s wispy clouds, like cotton candy that’s been pulled apart, where the sun is slicing through and sinking into the sea… the ocean is dark already but the peaks of the waves… they’re every color of the sky, reflecting… and there’s sapphire blue, aquamarine, and orchid... and orange, like tangerines, and pink… you’d love the pink, Ches, it’s so vibrant… and the sand, it’s graying in the waning sunlight, but the wet sand is reflecting the pink, a lighter, more muted shade than the sky… and the palm trees are black against the sky, and the mountains are warm and hazy and sliding down into the ocean…”

“It sounds like a dream,” Chester murmured against his shoulder, running his hands down Mike’s sides, “I’m afraid to look at it, I’m afraid I’ll be disappointed, that it won’t live up to your description.” He lifted his chin and turned his face to Mike, his eyes closed, a dreamy smile on his passion swollen lips.

Bringing his hands up out of the water, Mike cupped Chester’s face in his hands, the water dripping down his wrists and sliding back under the surface. “Ches, turn around, open your eyes, and look at it… it’s amazing.” It was easy in the water to help Chester slide his off of his lap and turn around, scooting his back against Mike’s chest and trapping his arousal between them. Squeezing his eyes shut and praying for control, he whispered in Chester’s ear, “open your eyes and look,” wrapping his hand around Chester’s dick at the same time.

The gasp was well worth the agony their position was causing Mike, as Chester’s hips involuntarily bucked forward into Mike’s hand while he opened his eyes to the Kauai sunset in front of him. The view lasted but a moment and Chester’s head fell back against Mike’s shoulder as he stroked the vocalist’s length under the water, the emcee’s hand gliding smoothly and easily, feeling his own erection swell almost painfully into Chester’s back. “God, Ches, I want to feel you, I want to be inside you so much.” Mike’s voice was low, thick with arousal, and he felt the tremble move through Chester’s entire body as he spoke.

Taking a deep breath, Chester managed to gasp out, “not here, I have a different idea...” 

“Where, love? I want you now, under this sunset, our sunset, right here.”

Breathlessly, Chester suggested, “let’s take this down to the beach.”


	40. Moonlight

_”Let’s take this down to the beach…”_

In Mike’s mind, there would be plenty more opportunities to make love on the beach, and he was comfortable right where he was, in the deep bath with Chester pressed against him, Chester in his hand, warmth all around them. “Ahhh, Ches, I don’t want to move, it’s perfect right here…”

“Nobody will see,” he mumbled, turning his face toward Mike’s neck, not quite begging but trying to be persuasive, and Mike groaned with indecision. The idea was appealing but they were already entwined where they were, and moving would be delaying the pleasure they were both seeking. Chester slid off Mike’s lap and turned to face him again, resting his hands on the ledge Mike was sitting on, and floating the rest of his body away from contact. Mike bit his bottom lip, frustrated, as Chester floated his body forward, balancing on his arms, close enough to feather kisses up Mike’s jawline as between them he whispered, “Mikeyyyyy… I’ll get a blanket… the ocean… the stars… come on… when will we have the chance again?…” he breathed as he ran his tongue down the outside of Mike’s earlobe.

“The next nine nights?” Mike wondered, eyes closed, his body aching with need. All it took was Chester’s admonish of his name against his ear and Mike gave in. “Go get the blanket,” he mumbled through gritted teeth, allowing Chester to glide away. Opening his eyes, he watched Chester’s glistening backside as he slid into a waiting white fluffy robe without bothering to dry off, or tie it closed. He had to admit, Chester was fast as returned with a giant blanket and held out his hand to pull Mike up from the bathtub. He fumbled his way into an identical robe, though he tied his closed, and followed Chester down the lanai steps right into the back garden.

In the semi-darkness, the sky’s colors fading fast, they were like two teenagers sneaking out of the house to be together, aching, giggling, anxious with need, stumbling in their haste to get down to the beach, stealing kisses from each other as they went down the steps and then the path, through the hedges and onto the sand. Chester handed Mike one end of the blanket and together they spread it out, carefully sitting on top and brushing the sand off their feet after Chester mentioned not wanting to get sand in places that shouldn’t have sand in them, laughing at the look on Mike’s face as he spoke. They fell back onto the blanket side by side, looking up at the stars that were appearing overhead as the sky became darker and darker, the colors changing into deeper and deeper shades before falling into black. The sun had almost completely sunk into the ocean, and the gentle moonlight was beginning to illuminate the shadows. There was a calmness that washed over them with the sound of the waves that were gently lapping the shoreline not twenty steps away. 

“This is truly amazing, Ches… everything about this, being here with you… I just… I…” Mike reached for Chester’s hand and their fingers linked, and Mike turned his head to look at the man next to him. Chester in profile was one of Mike’s favorite sights, one of his favorite studies; the fine line of his jaw, the slope of his forehead and the delicateness of his cheekbones, the way his lips always looked so inviting, the emerging moonlight tonight turning his skin into an ethereal vision. 

Chester sighed, his eyes still on the stars, and Mike’s heart twisted in his chest at the sound. “I know… it’s beautiful… it almost doesn’t seem real. Like, am I going to suddenly wake up from this dream? Because that’s what it feels like, like this is all a dream, that I’ve finally figured out the secret to happiness, to my life, but it’s too good to be true. It’s like it can’t be real, that I’m laying on the beach with Mike Shinoda, and he’s mine. Being here… it feels like we are the only two people left on Earth… I still can’t believe this is happening, finally, after all these years.” 

“I know… I feel like if I reach out and touch you, you might disappear… you might drift away into the waves, into the ocean, away from me, a mirage…” Mike agreed, his voice shaking. 

Turning to face Mike, his eyes black in the shadow, Chester whispered, “touch me, Mike. I won’t disappear. I’m not leaving you… I’ll never leave you… just touch me...” 

Releasing his hand, Mike reached up, running warm fingertips along his lover’s chest where the robe had fallen open, along his collarbone, watching as the goosebumps covered his skin and his eyes closed, savoring the contact. He feathered his touch down and back up, along his neck and tracing his earlobe before running a finger along that enticing bottom lip, that lovely lip just waiting to be kissed. He leaned in, gently pushing Chester onto his back, feeling the sand giving way underneath their bodies, nuzzling his face between Chester’s neck and shoulder, breathing in the ocean air and Chester’s hibiscus scented skin, feeling the ache in his body, his _need_ for Chester. Like air, like food, like sleep, like a heartbeat, Chester was necessary to Mike’s existence, and it was overwhelming to realize that even before they had admitted it, it had always been that way. They were connected to each other on more than a physical, more than an emotional level, it felt spiritual, bigger than the two of them; they were part of each other on a fundamental level, two halves of a whole, different but the same, each completing the other.

Their first kiss on the now moonlit beach was tender, gentle, lazy and smooth, Chester’s hands coming up to bury in Mike’s windblown hair. It was unhurried, for what was there to rush for? There was no interview, no driver waiting, no band or children or responsibility, just the two of them together, and the next ten days stretched before them, limitless, fraught with possibilities. Mike sucked Chester’s bottom lip into his mouth and heard the moan of approval from Chester’s throat, and he reached down to lift Chester’s leg, running his palm up the underside of the vocalist’s thigh and under his ass, cupping the smooth round cheek and pulling their bodies closer together. 

He felt Chester’s hands pushing the robe away from his shoulders, running his hands along Mike’s back, and Mike released the lip he was sucking with a soft, wet pop. “I love you, Chester,” Mike whispered against his lips, sliding the tip of his nose down Chester’s, then softly kissing across his cheek, his ear, then down his neck as the robe fell down to his waist and the ocean breeze tickled his back. 

“I’ve always wanted to do this,” Chester said, his hands coming up to twist into Mike’s hair. As the emcee lavished attention on his neck, he moaned his approval, with words in between. “I want to do all these romantic, over the top things with you. I feel like I have twenty years of missed opportunities to make up for now.”

For a moment, the kisses stopped, and Mike hovered over Chester, trying to see his eyes in the shadows. “It’s true, we have twenty years of history, Ches, and maybe there were some missed opportunities, but I think those years have made this so much more powerful than it would have been back when we were just kids. We wouldn’t have known how to handle this, the fame, the band, and your… addictions… back then. It could have all gone so poorly, ended up so badly… but now, even though it’s been a long road, and a fucking hard one, we know for certain what we want. And we’ve been together through all of those things, and we’ve made it, and not because we were just… horny for each other,” Mike smiled, “but because we love and respect and care about each other on a level far deeper than just sex. I have told you over and over that this is not just sex for me, Ches, and I don’t know if I’ll ever truly be able to express just how I feel about you, and us… but you are part of me the way no one else has ever been, or ever will be. We’re linked together in so many ways, and this,” he ran his thumb over Chester’s lips, “is just one of them.”

Hands pulled him down then, Chester pressing their lips together delicately at first, the kiss growing in intensity with each breath, warm and sweet and scented by the ocean, and Mike shifted to one side, pulling Chester over with him so that they were lying on their sides, legs entwined through the robes that were still on somehow. Unhurried, their tongues explored each other deeply, smoothly connecting and teasing, back and forth, and Mike ran his hand up under the robe and down Chester’s hip, along his backside, teasing his fingers across his skin, pulling Chester’s thigh up close and hard against him, opening a space for his hand to move between his ass cheeks, skimming his entrance and causing a deep, throaty moan.

That moan when straight to Mike’s groin, and he pulled away from their kiss again, replacing his lips with two fingers, Chester agreeably sucking and licking Mike’s fingers until they were glistening with saliva, and Mike reached to press those fingers inside of Chester, sighing in agonized desire as he listened to the whimpers and tiny sounds of pleasure coming from the vocalist. Wrapped together closely, Mike went slowly, fingering Chester deeply, carefully avoiding his prostate for now, unwilling to speed the process along in any way. Hours could pass and he wouldn’t care, they weren’t on anyone’s clock except their own, and neither man felt the need to rush the experience. All around them, the only sounds were of the rustling of the breeze in the palms, the sound of the ocean waves, their breathing and wanton sighs, and it was easy to lose himself in Chester. He was well on his way to dissolving into sensation and instinct when Chester tugged gently on his hair and pulled his head back with it, exposing his neck for warm, wet kisses, punctuated with his voice, an edge of desperation present, “I love you too, Mike. I want you so fucking much, please…”

Withdrawing his hand, Mike sat up, discarding his robe to the side and removing Chester’s from his arms, letting it fall open the rest of the way underneath him as he slid on top of Chester’s willing body, his tattooed arms locking around Mike’s back, pulling him closer, their bodies hard against each other. “Now?” Mike asked, his voice husky, his body aching, his mind full of all things Chester. With his lovers breathy, gasping ‘yes’ resonating in his ear, he pushed his leg up and to the side, positioning himself at Chester’s entrance as he murmured, “you’re mine, Ches, for always, mine,” and pushed inside, his mouth dropping open in a silent groan, Chester’s body tight around him, almost unbearably so, and he paused, seeking control. His body was so alive with sensation that he felt like it was the first time he’d ever had sex, like one stroke would be enough to push him over the edge on this night, this night of declarations and beauty and possibility. “God, Chester… you feel… incredible.” He felt tears pricking at the corners of his eyes, and he buried his face in Chester’s neck as he held still, as deeply inside Chester as he could get, completely overcome with emotion.

Soothingly, Chester petted his hands down Mike’s back as his body adjusted, feeling their physical connection overlap their emotional connection. He turned his lips into Mike’s hair, breathing in the fading scent of his shampoo, kissing his head. After a few moments, he was almost begging, “move, mark me, make me yours again,” grasping at Mike’s hips, urging him to pull away and push back in again, starting a tantalizingly patient rhythm.

Mike was trying not to come right then, his mind so wrapped up in his love for the vocalist and the constant desire he felt under his skin, slow was all he could handle. With every stroke he tried to convey how deeply he felt Chester in his soul, he couldn’t get close enough to him, he couldn’t push deep enough inside to cause their bodies to suddenly melt into one, but he wanted to- Mike had never wanted to give himself up and over to someone as much as he wanted to shift together into one with Chester, one body, one mind, one soul. “I didn’t know, Ches… I didn’t know, all those years… years I dreamed about you, wanted you… loved you… I didn’t know it would be like this… God, Chester… I didn’t know…” he moaned despairingly, not able to get close enough, nipping and sucking at Chester’s neck now, desperately wanting to mark him, knowing that he could because they were alone, blissfully alone for days.

“I didn’t either, Mike… but we’re here now…” Chester panted out, sliding a hand between them and stroking himself as Mike devoured him. “I’m ready... love... I’m going to come for you.”

Painfully, Mike pulled away from tasting Chester’s skin, locking his eyes on his lovers face, husking, “come on, I want to see you, Ches. Come for me, my love,” thrusting deep inside as Chester climaxed, his warm seed spreading between them, his eyes scrunched in the rapture of their feelings for each other, and Mike held on through the squeezes he felt around him until Chester’s hand fell limply away from between them, and he drove forward to take his turn, filling Chester with his own cum as he shuddered into him, the orgasm completely overtaking the entire world, everything in it, but him and Chester. He didn’t know how every time he made love with Chester it seemed to be better than the last but it was, and he was thoroughly worn out when he came down from the high, pushing one last stroke before coming down to take Chester’s mouth in a possessive kiss. They lay together, their heartbeats slowing over precious quiet minutes, the sound of the ocean waves returning to their ears after being tuned out for the last several minutes they’d been consumed with each other. Separating his body from Chester’s with a whimper of distress, Mike slid onto his back, pulling Chester to lay against him, the sand shifting again under their weight, a comfortable dip cradling each bone so that there were no points of tension, and Mike almost felt like he was floating away, the sound of the waves in his ears, the universe in perfect balance.

Chester reached over and drew his discarded robe over their bodies, and Mike didn’t know how long they lay there, drifting in and out of sleep, before Chester tilted his head back to kiss under Mike’s neck, suggesting sleepily, “let’s go try out that outdoor shower and see how comfortable the bed is… I think I can move now.”

Mike smiled up at the sky and said, “I’m sure if the bed in our room doesn’t suit, one of the other six might be to your liking.” 

Languidly, Chester sat up, playfully smacking Mike’s stomach. “Are you making fun of my beach house? You told me you liked it.”

“I told you I _loved_ it,” Mike corrected. “This outdoor shower… I don’t know if I can make it that far,” he half-heartedly whined. “My body feels like a cloud right now. I don’t think it will support me.”

Pulling on Mike’s hand, Chester giggled. “You can make it, come on. It’s late… and tomorrow I want to go hiking.”

“Hiking?” Mike repeated, sitting up slowly, stretching his feet out over the edge of the blanket and burying them in the sand. “That sounds fun. Do you have a plan?”

“Ah… sure. I mean, I know a little where I want to go, there’s so many waterfalls we could go see-”

“You’re inside my head, Ches, I remember thinking about waterfalls when we talked about coming here before… I was thinking how beautiful you would look in the mist around a waterfall… I swear, you know me so well.”

Another light laugh, and Chester stood up, his naked body outlined by the moonlight. “You can practice your photography,” he suggested, “I’m a willing subject.”

“You’re always willing,” Mike agreed, shrugging his shoulders into his robe and offering the other to Chester, who shook his head. “And such an exhibitionist.”

“Live a little, Shinoda, you could stand to loosen up a bit,” Chester teased, tugging at the belt of the robe, untying it and making it fall open again.

For a moment, Mike considered tying it back again, but the freedom and peace he felt with their surroundings caused him to take Chester up on his suggestion. To the vocalist’s delight, Mike took the robe off and slung both over his arm before offering Chester his hand. “There you go, Ches. Now… let’s go try out that outdoor shower.”


	41. Initials

“Hand me that bowl of cheese over there, Ches… you’re going to have to take your hand out of my shirt to get the cheese… look, if you want cheese-”

It was time to sprinkle cheese on the omelets, but the portion he had shredded was just out of Mike’s reach, and Chester was between him and the bowl. As usual, Chester wasn’t exactly helping, he was apparently the master of an ongoing experiment to see how far he could push his luck before Mike lost his concentration and burned their breakfast. This was the eighth day of a similar scene. He was pressed against Mike’s back, one hand up under his shirt, tickling across his stomach, while Mike turned the omelets the last time. Sighing petulantly, he turned away from Mike and grabbed the bowl of cheese, handing it to him to sprinkle over the top of the omelet.

Mike had cooked bacon, snacking on a few pieces as he fried the package, then sauteed spinach and onions in a spoonful of bacon grease before adding egg whites and crumbled bacon, and it all smelled heavenly. Chester couldn’t wait to eat, and he drained the last of his coffee, looking over Mike’s shoulder to gauge how much longer he’d have to wait. All that appeared to be left was waiting for the cheese to melt after Mike sprinkled the cheddar over the tops of both omelets. He settled back impatiently, his eyes on Mike’s back, watching the emcee as he used the last bit of cheese on Chester’s eggs. 

Setting the bowl aside, Mike glanced over at Chester, who was pouting against the bar, his bottom lip looking particularly kissable at the moment, and Mike set down his spatula and grabbed Chester around the waist. “Are you _pouting_ my love?” he asked playfully, his fingertips digging into Chester’s sensitive sides.

Trying not to smile, Chester turned his face away and fussed, “no.” 

In this case, no definitely meant yes, and Mike knew it. “Oh, don’t lie to me, Chester, I know you. Your feelings are hurt over a bowl of shredded cheese, aren’t they?” he teased, leaning in for a kiss. “You better stop sticking that bottom lip out like that or I might bite it off.”

“You’re such a tease, Shinoda,” Chester mumbled as Mike nipped at his bottom lip, playfully pulling at it before kissing him soundly with a loud smack.

“Don’t worry, you’ll get some more later,” Mike promised as he squeezed Chester’s sides and turned back to the omelets. “Just in time. Would you hand me a plate?”

“And a slave-driver,” Chester continued in a huff, handing a plate with a toasted and buttered english muffin and cut strawberries to Mike. “So demanding. In and out of the studio. I can’t win,” he lamented, shaking his head in mock sadness.

Mike slid the perfect omelet on the plate, setting it aside and taking a second plate from Chester. “Oh, you like to be bossed around,” he said lightly. He glanced over and saw Chester smiling, and he knew there was some role-playing their near future, most likely involving restraints of some sort, and he felt the stirring of excitement in his stomach. As he moved to the refrigerator for orange juice, he palmed the front of Chester’s pajama pants, commenting, “yeah, you’re thinking about it, aren’t you?” 

“Damn it, Mike, I’d like to enjoy _one_ meal without a hard on,” Chester complained, picking up his plate as Mike poured them each a glass of juice. 

“Exaggerate much?” Mike laughed. “There have been plenty of meals that haven’t ended in you jumping my ass.” Then he thought about it and corrected, “well, I guess there haven’t been any _here_ , but you didn’t specify, so…” He was still grinning as they made their way out onto the lanai, setting their glasses on the table and sitting comfortably next to each other on the outdoor sofa. Chester propped his feet up on the table despite Mike’s quiet “tsk” and shake of the head. In Mike’s world, feet didn’t belong on tables. In Chester’s world, everything belonged to him so why did it matter? Mike nudged his leg with a toe and Chester shrugged.

“When it’s our table in our home you can tell me to put my feet down. Until then…” Chester crossed his ankles and looked at Mike, who just rolled his eyes and stabbed his fork into his breakfast with fake hostility.

It was really more brunch than breakfast, the morning having been spent in a sleepy mixture of lazy morning cuddles and blowjobs in bed, which was starting to become the preferred way of waking up for both of them. It was almost a contest to see who could sleep the longest and get the pleasure of waking up just in time for the first orgasm of the day. 

“So, do you really want me to grow my hair out?” Chester asked as he poked a strawberry with his fork. 

Even though he was chewing, Mike’s lips turned up into a smile. After he swallowed, he reached a hand out to rub Chester’s velvety shaved hair that was just a little bit longer than he’d been keeping it the past few months. “Looks like maybe you’ve already decided to? I mean, I would love it if it were just a bit longer. But whatever you want, Ches, it’s your hair.” He trailed his fingertips down Chester’s neck before he picked up his fork again. “How’s the omelet?” 

“Fuckin’ delicious. I was thinking I’d let it grow just enough to curl up a little, the way you like it.” 

A look of fondness, of nostalgia came over Mike’s face, his eyes far away and unfocused. “I remember your blonde hair… and your lip ring…” 

Mike mentioned the lip ring casually, but Chester caught the undertone in his voice, and he raised one eyebrow and flashed a sexy smile. “Ooohhhh… I see where this is going…”

Snapping back to the present, Mike smiled back at him, feigning innocence. “Oh yeah? Where do you think this is going?” 

“I’m thinking… you might have liked my look back when we did the _Crawling_ video?” 

“Chester, name me one person that _didn’t_ like that look on you. Blonde hair made your eyes so...” Mike faltered as he searched for the right word, the mental image he had of Chester during that time making his heart race. “Your eyes were so dark, they were almost black. You always looked so intense back then.”

Chester laughed. “I _was_ intense back then! Man, I’ve mellowed a lot.” He smiled and reached out to stroke his hand down Mike’s thigh. “Mostly thanks to you.” They shared a knowing smile, and Chester went on, “that was back when my baby-faced Mikey always tried to look so angry and mean… and you had earrings…” The tip of Chester’s tongue darted out to lick his bottom lip, the place where that lip ring had been so long ago. “I bet those holes have grown up, just like this one.”

Mike frowned. “Yeah, I haven’t tried to put earrings in for years.” He sat his empty plate on the table in front of them and reached up for both earlobes at the same time. “I can’t even feel the holes anymore.”

Instantly, Chester’s feet were off the table, his plate discarded off to the other side of him on the sofa, and he crawled over into Mike’s lap. “Let me see,” he said, straddling Mike’s thighs and leaning forward. “Oh, Mikey,” he breathed, a smirk on his face, “you really, _really_ liked my blonde hair. Maybe I need to dye it for you again.” He pushed Mike’s hands out of the way and inspected each earlobe, then sat back and declared, “you’re right. No earrings are getting through there.”

“Sorry to disappoint, Ches,” Mike murmured, placing his palm on the not-so-subtle bulge in Chester’s pajama pants. “What are we doing today?” he continued in the same low voice as he rubbed his hand against Chester slowly, looking at him through dark lashes.

“Mmmm, I don’t know… part of me wants to stay here in bed all day,” Chester replied, arching his back. “There’s just two more days… I can’t think of anything else we _have_ to do while we’re here… we’ve done the waterfalls, the botanical gardens, we’ve been sailing- twice… I think we should just stay here and stay naked all day.”

“I don’t think I can argue with that.” Keeping one hand right where it was, the other landed behind Chester’s neck and Mike pulled him in for a kiss. “I can’t get enough of you. I wish we didn’t have to go back,” he whispered after they pulled away.

“And to think, when I suggested just getting away from everything, you were so adamant that you weren’t going to just pack up and leave.” Chester grinned as Mike rolled his eyes. “Yeah, I remember everything. My, how times have changed,” he teased.

Mike scooted forward and braced his feet on the floor, pushing himself up with Chester, who instinctively locked his legs around Mike’s waist, still on him, and started toward the bedroom door. Chester was kissing down his neck when he reached the bed and fell into it, Chester’s back hitting the bed first and Mike landing on top of him, already tugging his shirt off. “I’ve had enough teasing this morning.” 

The smile dropped off Chester’s face as he went to push Mike’s pajama pants down. “Me, too,” he whispered as their lips met. 

*****

An hour later, Mike and Chester lay, limbs entwined, gasping for breath, sweaty and sticky, their hearts racing. Mike rested his forehead against Chester’s as he held himself up off the vocalist’s body with his forearms, needing to catch his breath, the high of their union receding into contentment. “You make me feel so good, Ches. Damn.”

He felt Chester’s body shake with light laughter, his breathing still erratic. “Yes… damn… I don’t want to move from this place. Ever. Fuck everyone and everything, let’s just live here.”

Kissing softly along the side of Chester’s face, Mike slowly pulled away, Chester’s disappointed look following him as he reached for the blanket, pulling it up over them both and moving back in to cuddle against the vocalist. “Swimming? I think we should go swimming,” Mike pondered, and Chester groaned lightly.

“I don’t wanna mooooove,” he whined. “I’m soooooo comfortable.”

Mike smiled and ran his hand down Chester’s side. “Okay, maybe in a little bit.” He felt Chester sigh as he snuggled in closer to Mike’s warmth.

Even though the bright afternoon sun was streaming into the bedroom unapologetically, Chester managed to drift into a light sleep while Mike gently ran a hand over his skin. _I don’t want to go home. I don’t know how that happened, but I could never go back, leave it all behind, and I would be okay._ His gaze landed on the initial tattoos on his lover’s chest, and Mike closed his eyes for a moment. _Okay, well, I do miss my kids. I would miss them if I never went back. And I’d miss the guys too. I wonder what everyone is up to… Dave’s probably playing golf… Rob’s probably surfing… Joe, well, Joe could be doing anything… and Brad… Brad’s probably in the studio, fucking around, waiting for me to get back._

Tracing over “TB” with a light fingertip, Mike felt that little slice of guilt coming back, wedging its way into his thoughts. He knew Anna had taken the kids to her parents’ house while he was in Hawaii, escaping from the media drama and everyday life. They hadn’t spoken since he left Japan and he’d stopped checking in, and Anna hadn’t made any effort to contact him. Mike knew Chester had talked to Tyler on Facetime at least twice since they had been at their beach house, but realized he had no idea if Chester had spoken with Talinda. He ran his fingers across Chester’s children’s initials, thinking about all of the people whose lives they had changed with one bold decision. _It’s the right decision, I won’t feel guilty about it. I have to leave that behind. It will be okay, it has to be okay, because this is right. Chester and I, we are so right for each other. I’ve never, ever been this happy._

Chester’s left hand came up then to cover Mike’s, and Mike looked up at him in surprise. “Sorry, love, did I wake you?”

“I was only sort of asleep,” Chester responded dreamily, “that half-awake, half-asleep place where you feel like you’re part of the air… and I could feel your hand on me… I started thinking about those tattoos again, Mikey. You promised, you know.” He cracked his eyes open a bit and peered at Mike. “Have you designed us something yet?”

“You don’t want to get it done here do you?” Mike questioned, trying to decipher where the conversation was headed. “I have some thoughts, but nothing final yet.”

“Nah, we’ll go back to Arizona for that, I was just wondering what you had so far.” 

“Well, I was thinking that you should go ahead and get the girls’ initials on a banner here and here,” he trailed his finger along each side of Isaiah's initials, “but then I’m stuck. I know you said you wanted my initials here,” he pointed over Chester’s heart, “but it wouldn’t be symmetrical unless you did the girls both on the right side, and mine on the left… so maybe you’ll have to put me somewhere else. I don’t know what you should do yet, but I think I know… what _I_ want,” he finished shyly.

Chester practically bounced up from the bed, wide awake, clapping his hands together with a huge smile on his face. “You’re gonna do it? Really?”

Mike laughed, pulling Chester back down to him. “Yeah… yeah I am. Right here,” he pointed to the top of his left shoulder, and Chester’s eyes were glowing in anticipation. “Do you want to see it?” Chester nodded and Mike slipped out of the bed, taking his sketchbook from a drawer and flipping pages as he came back to the bed, standing next to Chester. “I just drew it out a few nights ago, when you were in the shower,” he explained. “It’s not finished, but you’ll get the idea.”

He handed the sketchbook to Chester, open to the page with a pencil drawing of Mike’s imaginary tattoo in the center. It was a sun, surrounded by flames, with Chester’s initials in matching script in the center. “I’m going to draw it in ink when we get home, when I have my pens,” Mike explained, pointing to the flames. “The colors will match your wrists. I’ll have your flames circling your initials, inside the sun… because you _are_ my sun, you’re the center of my everything, my guiding light, my warmth… my existence…” He looked at Chester, who was silently staring down at the sketch. “What do you think?” he asked quietly, stroking a hand down the back of Chester’s head. 

Chester looked at the sketch for a few more moments, and just as Mike was starting to feel nervous, thinking he’d made a misstep, Chester looked up with a brilliant smile. “It’s perfect. I love it.” He rose up on his knees, the blanket falling away, and wrapped his arms around Mike’s waist. “I can’t wait to watch you get it done.” 

“Will you… hold my hand?” Mike asked, his voice betraying his nerves. The idea of needles repeatedly marking his skin was something he still hadn’t come to terms with, but he knew how important this was to Chester, and he did actually feel the appeal of displaying on his skin permanently his love for the other man… he just wished it wasn’t going to hurt as much as he thought it would.

“Of course,” Chester agreed, kissing Mike’s shoulder, “I’ll be there the whole time. I’m not going anywhere,” he promised. Letting go of Mike, Chester stood up and stretched, grabbing Mike’s hand and pulling him toward the open door. “Let’s go swimming now, I’m awake… and then maybe you can make me some cookies for dinner,” he added hopefully.

Mike just rolled his eyes at the mention of cookies, following Chester down to the pool in the back. “Wait, Ches, not the pool… I meant the ocean.”

Quizzically, Chester looked at him. “A week ago I couldn’t get you to go down on the beach in the dark without a robe, and now you want to go naked in the ocean in broad daylight? Who are you?”

“What can I say, a week here with you has changed me,” Mike giggled a little. “You said yourself, there’s nobody around. C’mon, it will be fun.” He looked at Chester with sweet puppy dog eyes even though he knew Chester was going to agree regardless, and added, “I’ll make you cookies later…” in a persuasive sing-song voice.

“Deal,” Chester said, changing paths to lead down to the ocean. “Let’s go be naked some more.”

The water was warm and the sun was high, and Mike and Chester swam out into the cove, pointing out colorful fish to each other, breathing in the ocean air and riding the waves, coming back in to rest their feet on the sand before taking off in a different direction to explore, Mike lamenting the fact that they weren’t prepared with snorkels. Chester tried to appease his disappointment by tackling him in the waves, and they wrestled around with each other in neck deep water until Mike gave in and let Chester win, throwing his hands up into the air at the same time a wave crashed over them both and they dissolved into fits of laughter, reaching for each other in the water and kissing, tasting the salt on each other’s skin, the euphoric feeling of freedom present the entire afternoon. By the time they made it back to shore, Mike was exhausted, and he collapsed on the wet sand next to Chester, who barely looked winded.

“I guess I need to start working out more if I’m gonna keep up with you,” Mike mumbled, his chest heaving. “You wore me out.”

A grin plastered itself on Chester’s face, and he poked Mike in the side. “You owe me cookies, Shinoda, you better get your ass up.”

Groaning, Mike swatted the vocalist’s hand away. “Tonight? Can’t I make cookies tomorrow?”

“You want to spend our last day here in the kitchen?” Chester asked, indignant. “No. You promised cookies for this romp in the ocean, and I delivered my end of the deal. Now I want some of your chocolate chip pecan cookies, and I want them with milk, and I want them for dinner,” he declared. “You promised.”

Turning his head to look at Chester, Mike reached to poke Chester this time, in the stomach. “Cookies for dinner? That’s not going to help maintain this sexy physique you’ve got going on here.”

“You afraid I’m gonna marry you and get fat? I mean, it’s just a cheat meal. It’s not like I’m gonna turn off and have babies and gain fifty pounds,” Chester went on, smirking.

“God, no. We have more than enough children between the two of us,” Mike said, the corners of his mouth turning down just a bit as he pictured his babies in his mind. “I miss the kids, Ches.”

“Me too. It gets easier, you know, the not seeing them every day. It’s like being on tour. It just becomes the new normal. Besides, once we buy a house and they’re all there, you’ll be pulling your hair out. Have you realized we’re going to have four little girls between the ages of five and seven in one house at one time? Do you have any idea what that is going to be like when they are teenagers?” Chester shuddered at the thought.

Mike laughed. “I hadn’t even gotten that far yet, Ches. But damn, you’re right. We’ll be outnumbered.”

Chester nodded. “Yep. It’s going to be a circus.” He leaned over and kissed Mike, smiling down at him. “Our circus. There’s nobody else I’d want in the ring with me.” 

Mike sat up, looping his arms around his knees and staring out into the ocean. “Me either, Ches. It’s going to be loud and crazy and messy and…” he looked at his best friend, still in disbelief at times that this was the same man he called his lover, that he was going to share the rest of his life with. “I can’t wait.”


	42. Wives

Anna blew out a long breath over the top of her coffee cup, looking at Talinda with interest. She just didn’t understand how the other woman could talk about their husbands and seem so… unaffected. Everything that had happened over the last several months, the whirlwind pace of it all, had left Anna feeling depressed and depleted, and here was her best friend, the only other person who truly knew what she was going through, and she seemed to be taking it all in stride.

They were sitting in the Bennington’s den, children running wild overhead, drinking coffee and intending to relax, but the conversation had turned back to Mike and Chester, as it inevitably did these days. Talinda had mentioned that she would be dropping the kids off at Rob’s later in the afternoon after Mike and Chester returned from their trip, and it was amazing to Anna that there wasn’t the slightest hint of bitterness in her voice. 

“How can you be so… okay with all of this?” Anna questioned honestly. She didn’t think she would ever get to a place where she was okay seeing Mike with Chester… romantically.

Talinda flicked her long hair over her shoulder and sighed. “I wouldn’t say I’m _okay_ with it all. I’ve just… accepted it. Just like everything else that has come with Chester. You know, when we met, he wasn’t the easiest person to be around at times. But he was worth working through those tough times. Nights when he drank too much. Drama with Sam. Weeks of him being away on tour. All of the self-deprecating things he’d struggle with in his head… there’s always been a lot that came with the package of Chester. And Mike… Mike has always been part of that package too. I’ve always known about his feeling for Mike.”

Anna nodded. This wasn’t the first time Talinda had said this to her since she’d found out about Mike and Chester. It still burned her insides that she never knew, that Mike had never trusted her enough to tell her he was in love with Chester, as Chester had clearly done with Talinda. Deep down she knew it was because Mike was afraid, and because he truly had never intended to act upon those feelings, but it was so much easier to nurse her anger toward him if she pushed that compassion away, pretended to be completely blindsided by it all. 

“He called me that night, the night you went to Florida… Palm Beach, I think it was? The night after the first photo surfaced.” Anna nodded, taking another sip of her coffee, glancing down at the couch. “I knew you were there, and I don’t blame you one bit for going out there. I just… I knew, Anna, I’ve always known. And I think you have, too. They’ve always been… different. I guess Chester has always been more open about his sexuality than Mike. I always thought if Mike were more open about his this would have happened a long time ago.” Talinda sighed, brushing a hand through her hair. “I always thought they’d get it out of their system eventually. I probably could have been okay… sharing… him with Mike…” Talinda glanced up then, to Anna’s surprised face, “but when we talked that night, I could tell that what he really wanted was to finally be free enough to admit that he likes men too. He wants to be with Mike, really be with him. And I just… I love him too much to make him miserable. He has so many things in his head already trying to bring him down. Why make it harder on him?”

“But don’t you want to keep your family together? And what about you? What about your happiness?” Anna didn’t think it was fair to discount what _they_ wanted in all of this. Why didn’t they get to make any decisions for them?

“Do you really think a marriage is strong when one partner wants to be with someone else? No matter how much I love him, that’s really not fair to either of us. It’s not like he left me for someone he barely knows. It’s _Mike_.” Talinda’s voice pointed out the obvious-- that Chester knew Mike as well as he knew himself. If he were willing to embrace that relationship with Mike, who was she to stand in the way of that? 

Anna still didn’t look any more convinced than she did earlier. Sitting her coffee cup on the table, Talinda turned to Anna earnestly, resting her hand on Anna’s knee. “Anna, I married a man with two kids from two different prior relationships. I was there when he adopted the child of one of those women so that they would be brothers with the same parents, so that Isaiah would feel as loved and valued as Jamie. I’ve had three children with him… and I’ve shared him so much already, what difference does one more intimate relationship make? I could have never been with him in the first place if I was a jealous person, Anna. You can’t go on family vacations with all your kids and bring along the ex-wives and be a jealous person. I just… I want him to be happy. And honestly, I have everything I need, and I’ve seen Chester in action. I know he will take care of me and the kids.” She squeezed Anna’s knee, a hint of a smile on her face. 

Anna nodded thoughtfully. “I suppose it’s just a completely different situation. I’ve never had to… _share_ Mike with anyone. He’s one of the most loyal people I’ve ever known. I guess that’s what makes this so hard… and why I’m still so angry! How _could_ they, Talinda? How could they just throw it all away, like we meant nothing to them?” Tears were threatening, and Anna was not going to cry with her kids upstairs. They had unfortunately seen and heard enough tears in the past few months. “I just… I miss him so much.”

“I know.” Talinda’s voice was soft, quiet. “I miss Chester, too. I know you might not be able to see it right now, but I promise you, they struggled with this. Why do you think it took as long as it did to come to fruition? I think they both wanted to do right by us, Anna. It wasn’t a spur of the moment decision, it’s not like they accidentally fell into bed with each other one night. It’s hard, I’m not going to pretend this has all been easy… but… we have each other. And your relationship with Mike? It can be as good or bad as you want to make it. You don’t _have_ to hate him just because you feel like people expect you to. How you two interact and how you co-parent… it’s all really up to you.”

Closing her eyes, Anna nodded. How easy or hard this was on all of them- the kids, her, Mike… it really was all up to how she wanted to handle it all, how she wanted to react. The media frenzy had blown over, really, and now all that remained was finalizing the divorce, signing off on fourteen years of marriage, putting that relationship in the past and embracing the new road ahead. “I just don’t know if I can do this,” she whispered, scrunching her eyes to keep the tears from falling. “Some days I just want to get away from it all. It hurts to see him.” 

Talinda reached for her, pulling them together in a tight hug. “I know. It sucks. But I also know you, Anna. You’re a good person. I know that ultimately you want Mike to be happy, that you want to do the right thing for you both. Like I said, a marriage can’t survive when you both aren’t fully committed… and even though I’m certain Mike loves you, his heart is with Chester. I’ve had longer to accept it than you have have… but I know you can do it too. I’m right here beside you, every step of the way.” 

**********

Reality was a slap in the face as soon as the plane landed at LAX. 

They were spotted as they walked through the airport, even though Chester had on a long sleeved shirt and a beanie low over his forehead, and Mike had pulled the hood of his sweatshirt over his hair. It didn’t matter to the two girls who made the connection that they were looking at _the_ Chester Bennington and Mike Shinoda. Unfortunately, they were not the subtle kind of fans they usually got in LA. They were screechy, out-of-state fans who couldn’t believe their luck at running into the Linkin Park frontmen in the airport, and their loud exclamations drew a bit more crowd than Mike felt comfortable with, given that they didn’t have any security with them. _This wouldn’t have happened six months ago. This is all the fault of the damn tabloids. I just want to go home._ They both very kindly brushed off the gushing relationship questions, signing a few napkins and other assorted items before excusing themselves to another commitment, pulling hats and hoods lower and walking faster until they made the exit.

“Well, that was fun,” Chester commented as soon as they sat down in the back of the waiting car. Mike stole a glance at him and realized that Chester wasn’t being sarcastic, he’d really enjoyed being around the fans.

“It was… loud… after being alone for almost two weeks,” Mike countered, “and I’m not sure I like being asked such personal questions about our relationship right out in public like that. Some of the fans are so forward.”

Chester laughed. “Yeah, well… that’s just gonna happen more and more, Mikey, so you better get used to it. They’re as bad as Joe! But... I know what you mean about it being loud all of a sudden.” He reached to touch Mike’s cheek. “I miss being alone with you already.”

Sighing, Mike reached up and placed his hand over Chester’s, moving it over so he could kiss the palm. “It was a wonderful vacation, Ches. You did an amazing job finding that place. I’d go back in a heartbeat.”

An endearing smile crept over Chester’s face. “We’ll go back, one day. And when things start to feel hard, or messy, we can just think about being there, together, and it will keep us focused. Eyes on the prize. It will be all be sorted before we know it.”

His optimism was contagious, and Mike smiled back. “I do have to say, I’m excited to get back in the studio, I’ve got some ideas floating in my head, I want to get them down soon.”

“You’re such a workaholic,” Chester teased affectionately, flicking the end of Mike’s nose with his fingertip and shaking his head. “I’m not going back in there this week. Probably not even next week. I’ve promised my life away to the kids. I owe them some major Dad time.”

Mike nodded. “I need to get some time set up with Anna, it feels like it’s been forever since I’ve seen the kids, too. And I’ve got to call Brad… I know he’s waiting for me to get back to work,” Mike said absently, “we were talking about it in the airport in Japan right before we left.”

“You guys really worked a lot of hours on the last album, I’m surprised he wants to do all of that production stuff with you again,” Chester pondered aloud. “I figured that was going to be a one and done.”

“You know how he is, he loves learning new stuff. I think this time he’ll be faster. He’s a quick study,” Mike complimented the guitarist, fiddling his thumb across a seam in his jeans.

Chester agreed, joking “production is way over my pay grade.” He looked out the window in annoyance at the traffic. “Didn’t miss this part of being gone,” he said drily.

“Home sweet home,” was Mike’s reply, and they spent the rest of the ride in comfortable silence, contemplating the return to daily life.

Rob wasn’t home when Mike and Chester got to his place, but had left a note that he’d be back before dinner on top of two neatly sorted stacks of mail. Chester dropped onto a barstool, his luggage abandoned at his feet, and took his stack of mail, running a finger underneath the flap of an envelope to open it. Shaking his head with a smile, Mike took both of his suitcases upstairs immediately, jogging back down and meeting Chester where he’d left him in the kitchen, now rummaging through the refrigerator, his mail abandoned in a torn heap. Reaching for his mail and the letter opener, Mike asked, “what are you looking for?” as he sliced an envelope open cleanly.

“T’s bringing the kids for a few hours tonight, wondering if we had anything to cook or if we were ordering in.” 

“Let’s order in,” Mike suggested, opening his thickest envelope first. It was a letter from Mr. Boyd and a copy of something that had been filed with the court.

Just as Chester was about to ask if Mike wanted pizza or Chinese, he caught Mike’s face in his peripheral vision and turned to look at him. In his hands were several unfolded sheets of paper, and the emcee’s face was unhappy. “Uh-oh. What’s wrong, Mikey?” he asked, coming around the bar to stand next to Mike, looking at the paper in his shaking hand.

“It’s fine. Nothing’s wrong,” he said hastily. “She’s agreed to everything. It’s our court date.”

“Yeah, I’ve got one of those too. March seventh.”

“March thirteenth.” Mike exhaled slowly. “I can’t believe she’s not fighting me. I mean, I’m glad… but I thought this part would be much harder.” He couldn’t take his eyes off the paper, the sentence, “a settlement has been reached in the matter of Anna H. Shinoda vs. Michael K. Shinoda,” jumping out at him. _A settlement has been reached._ It was one more weight lifted, one more item to cross off the checklist of things that had to be completed for his life with Chester to truly begin. It was a relief just as much as it was crushing… the end of a twenty year relationship condensed to one sentence. _A settlement has been reached._ He looked at Chester. “Is it crazy that I feel like celebrating and crying at the same time?”

“Oh, my love… I know exactly what you mean, mourning the end of one chapter but so excited for the next… that’s normal. I’d worry more about you if you _didn’t_ feel sad.” He looped an arm around Mike’s waist, pulling him in close. “I don’t expect you to just stop loving Anna, Mike. That’s weird to me. I mean, there’s even still a part of me that loves Sam, as fucking crazy as she is… we shared a lot of years together, and it wasn’t all bad. And I know for a fact that you and Anna have had a very happy life together. I don’t want you to think that to be loyal to me you have to hate her or something… there’s different ways to love people… and it’s okay to mourn the ending of what you had with her. Twenty years is a long time. Does any of what I’m saying make sense to you?” he asked, looking seriously at the emcee. 

Shrugging, Mike looked up from the paper in his hand. “I understand what you’re saying… it’s just so heavy, so much to take in, the moment we walk in from such an amazing trip. It was nice to set it all aside for a while and just concentrate on you, on being with you… it’s just like a little slap of reality.” 

Just as Chester was nodding, his phone vibrated in his pocket and he reached for it, looking down and wiggling the phone at Mike as he stepped away. “T’s calling… hey babe,” he answered.

Mike was a little taken aback at how friendly and intimate the greeting was… his interactions with Anna were strained and formal these days. He sighed. _Maybe someday Anna and I can be friendly again. She hates me so much right now._ Not wanting to eavesdrop on Chester’s conversation, Mike headed upstairs to unpack. Tossing worn clothes into the hamper, Mike was halfway through one suitcase when he came across the camera and smiled, remembering the two days they’d hiked around Kauai, looking at waterfalls and taking pictures. Just the thought of those days lifted Mike’s mood, and now seemed a perfect time to transfer those photos over to the computer. He wanted to look at them, he wanted to get lost in them again, just for a moment, just to delay reality a little bit more. He smiled he reached for his laptop. 

Some data transfers and a few clicks later, and Mike was clicking through picture after picture he’d taken of Chester and the waterfalls, trying to capture the aura of the falls around him. He stopped on one particular photo of Chester in profile, looking toward the waterfall, the misty haze of water creating a white halo around his shirtless body. He looked like an angel, the only thing missing were wings. Mike tapped the screen thoughtfully, clicking the heart icon in the bottom right of the photo, saving it to favorites, as Chester entered the room. 

“Talinda’s on her way with the kids. She was asking about Thanksgiving, apparently it’s next week. I hadn’t noticed,” Chester smiled, “I may have been a little distracted.” He sat down next to Mike, looking at the computer screen while he spoke. “What would you think about inviting Anna and having everyone at Casa Bennington next Thursday?”

Mike closed the laptop and looked at Chester in astonishment. “That’s what she wants to do? Has she even talked to Anna?” He wasn’t sure this sounded like a good idea. He didn’t think Anna would even tolerate being in the same room with him for that long, his famous pumpkin pie withstanding.

“Apparently, yes, she has talked to Anna. I kinda get the feeling that might have something to do with you getting her agreement on your settlement, too.” He nudged Mike’s arm with a smile.

“What do you mean?”

“Sounds like they’ve been spending a lot of time together. Talinda has been pretty chill about this whole thing-” he pointed first to Mike, then to himself- “to be honest, and I think it’s rubbing off on Anna. Or she’s been talking Anna off the ledge, so to speak. T’s just… so open minded about things. She always has been. I think it’s a good thing they’ve been hanging out together. It might make things a little easier. I mean, you never know… we might be taking everyone back to Hawaii with us one day after all.”

Mike was a little stunned by the whole conversation. He hadn’t realized Anna had been talking with Talinda about things, but it made sense, and he could only hope that Talinda’s influence would help him see his kids more frequently. Talinda had been a champion about that so far with Chester, and Mike had been envious. _Maybe that’s what she meant when she said ‘we’ll see you when you get back.’ Maybe they’d already been talking._

He realized he hadn’t said anything in a few minutes when Chester asked, “so… Thanksgiving?”

Mike deflected the decision making back to Chester. “If you think we can do it… I’m game. You’re the master of those types of plans and arrangements, Ches. If anyone can pull it off, it’s you. You somehow have the ability to get all of your kids and their mothers in one place and everyone gets along… at least while you’re around.” 

“It’s because I’m so fucking charming,” Chester exclaimed, throwing both hands up in the air. “Who can resist me?”

“Clearly, nobody can tell you no, Ches,” Mike rolled his eyes, poking Chester in the stomach just as they heard the front bell ring.

Chester bounced up immediately, running for the front door. “It’s T with the kids!” he tossed over his shoulder at Mike, and Mike put aside the laptop to join him downstairs. His plans for those pictures would have to wait.


	43. Thankful

It felt strange to be baking in Chester’s kitchen, in a home he no longer lived in, but here he was, showing Otis how to roll out pie crust on the granite slab dusted with a bit of flour as Chester opened the oven and checked on the turkey.

“Be careful not to roll it too thin on the edges,” Mike instructed, watching Otis carefully roll first one direction, then the other, evenly pressing the dough out in a circle.

“Is it thin enough, Papa?” Otis asked, his big brown eyes looking up at Mike. 

Chester closed the oven door and smiled at Mike, who looked particularly adorable with flour unknowingly dusted across his cheek. Without thinking about it, Chester reached over and wiped the flour off Mike’s face with this thumb, his fingers sinking into Mike’s hair for the briefest of moments. Mike looked up at him in surprise and Chester let his hand drop, softly saying, “you had flour on your cheek.”

Mike grinned at him, then looked down into his son’s wide eyes and touched a floury finger to Otis’ nose. “Getting messy is one of the most fun parts about baking, right, son?” The little boy nodded, his eyes moving between his father and Chester, a little wrinkle between them. “Just a little thinner, Otis… make sure you’ve got the middle just as thin.”

They watched as Otis rolled a few more times over the dough, then set the rolling pin aside. Mike moved the pie dish closer, and asked, “do you remember how I taught you to pick up the dough?”

Otis nodded, dusting his fingers with flour and running them lightly over the dough, then carefully lifting one side to fold the dough in half. He brushed flour over the dough again and folded it carefully in half one more time, making a point at on end. Mike watched as he transferred the dough into the glass dish, placing the point in the center, then unfolding the dough, centered perfectly in the pan. When he was finished, he looked to Mike for approval.

“It’s perfect, Otis! Great job!” Mike exclaimed proudly, fist bumping his son and then looking at Chester. “He’s better at making pies than I am.”

Wiping his hands on a towel, Otis watched his father and his uncle banter back and forth about Mike’s pie making skills, taking in the way his father said Chester’s name, and the way Chester kept reaching out to touch Mike. He almost felt forgotten when Mike suddenly turned to him and prompted, “okay, what’s next?”

“Spoon in the filling,” Otis answered automatically, picking up the bowl, then struggling to hold it with one hand and scoop the filling out with a spatula in the other. Mike reached over to steady the bowl while Otis scraped in the pumpkin filling, patting it smoothly with the spatula as Mike put the bowl in the sink and filled it with water. 

“Looks good, son, let’s get that pie in the oven!” Mike walked over to the double oven, bypassing the one with Chester’s turkey already cooking, and slid the pie inside to bake. “Go tell Mama you made the pie all by yourself.”

Shrewdly, Otis said, “it was about ninety percent by myself. You helped some.” Then he took off for the den, where Anna and Talinda were visiting, and Anna was braiding the girls’ hair.

“Seriously, Ches, this pie looks delicious.” Mike was looking through the oven glass at the pie and he felt Chester next to him.

“You look delicious,” Chester whispered close to Mike’s ear, positive that nobody would hear them.

Mike instinctively took a step away and scolded Chester with his eyes. “You promised to be on your best behavior today, Chester.”

With a cheeky grin, Chester held up both hands. “I am, I am. Calm down, Shinoda.” 

They both moved about the kitchen together, finishing dishes, lifting children, sneaking them bits of food when they whined about being hungry, laughing, talking, and cleaning as they went. The necessary taste testing involved furtive licks from spoons offered to the other- Mike’s licks were all business and Chester’s were all sex- and the longer they were in the kitchen together, the harder Mike found it to concentrate on food preparation. His eyes kept flicking to Chester’s hands, dicing onions, or Chester’s ass as he bent over to look inside the oven, or Chester’s arm as he reached across the stove to stir something in a pot. _This is ridiculous. It’s like I know I can’t touch him right now so naturally I want to, magnified by a million… we’re cooking, Mike. Cooking. Keep your eyes on the food._

His eyes caught Chester’s frequently, the glint in his eyes promising that the teasing would be worth it later. While Chester mashed potatoes, Mike started to bring covered dishes to the dining table, arranging everything just so, placing serving utensils alongside each item. Everything needed to be perfect for this meal. It felt like a make it or break it moment in how things would proceed going forward, and an incorrectly folded napkin might derail the entire meal. Mike knew he was stressing out and overreacting but the table felt like one thing he could actually control, and he was damn well going to make sure everything was up to his standards. 

Once everything was on the table, and all of the children had calmed down enough to take their places, Chester asked everyone to join hands while he said a simple prayer before they sat down to eat. Neither the Benningtons nor the Shinodas were overly religious, but giving thanks before and after meals was important to Mike, and even if Chester didn’t know his Japanese prayer, his intent was not lost on Mike. He smiled fondly as they all sat except Chester, who remained standing to better carve the golden brown and perfect turkey, commenting on both his turkey making and turkey carving skills throughout the process. They passed dishes around and helped the little girls with their servings, and eventually everyone was ready to eat the eclectic mix of Chester’s traditional American Thanksgiving and Mike’s Japanese dishes. 

Mike looked down the long table, six children and two wives between him and Chester. It wasn’t Chester’s holiday to have Draven, and the oldest boys would be visiting tomorrow, having chosen to spend Thanksgiving with their mother. So it was the three young Bennington children, the three Shinoda children, and Talinda and Anna along the sides of the table, Mike and Chester at either end. They’d shared many meals this way over the years, but somehow this was the most significant dinner the ten of them had ever eaten. _This could be the beginning of something… something really amazing, if Anna can do this… I hope she sees that we can do this…_

His hopeful thoughts were reflected on Chester’s face as he gazed across the steaming dishes at Mike, so far away for the moment. Chester winked at him, and Mike smiled back before turning his attention to the chatter of the children all around. Nothing seemed out of the ordinary to them, it was just like any other meal. Mike did notice that Tyler and Otis both would glance at him and then Chester, then at each other, throughout the meal, and he made a mental note to talk about them with Chester later. _It’s time to talk to the boys, at least. I think they’re starting to put it together. We should tell them before someone else does._ He looked at Anna, who was diligently making conversation with the kids and Talinda, but continued to look a little uncomfortable in the familiar surroundings. 

Since she had arrived with the kids, Anna had been cordial but cool in contrast to Talinda, who had no problem hugging Chester and smiling when he planted a kiss on her cheek. Mike had felt jealousy crawl over him as he witnessed that hug and kiss, but he dismissed it, knowing he was being silly. There was nothing that would break the bond between him and Chester, he was sure of it. Being friendly with the mother of his children didn’t mean Chester didn’t love him. Chester loved everyone, but he’d chosen Mike. Anna hadn’t made any move toward Mike in the time she’d been there, and Mike was wise enough not to press the issue, well aware that her comfort level with the entire day was the lowest of the four adults present.

Even though her smiles were faint during dinner, they were there, watching the children all interact with each other, Tyler and Otis talking about computer components, the girls talking about soccer and barbies, Talinda and Chester joking together, and Mike and Chester laughing over nonsense the way they always had. Anna felt like a spectator, had to remind herself to engage with everyone as she swallowed food she couldn’t taste, her stomach churning with anxiety. She _wanted_ to be able to do this, to be together with both of their families the way they had been ever since Talinda married Chester, but the dynamic between them all had shifted. Anna kept telling herself that she was the one who could control how things went between her and Mike, and the kids, and that she had a wonderful example of how to do it sitting across from her. Talinda would catch her eyes every few minutes and smile, trying to reassure Anna that this progress, simply sitting at the table with Mike and Chester, was a step in the right direction.

As the conversation wound down and everyone’s stomachs filled, Mike folded his napkin and placed it next to his plate. “Gochisousama deshita,” he smiled, and Otis, Abigail and Josephine repeated the phrase, respectfully thanking both Chester and their father for the meal they had received. Mike winked at Chester, knowing he’d be repeating the phrase for the hundredth time later on that night, as well as the one he said before each meal. It had been an ongoing process for years, trying to teach Chester Japanese, and Mike could never understand how the man could memorize lyrics so easily but trip up the Japanese words and phrases Mike had taught him.

“I think it’s time for your pie, son.” Mike stood, and as Otis started to stand as well, Mike motioned for him to stay seated. “I’ll bring it out, you can stay here.”

“I’ll come with you, to bring back the plates,” Anna said, surprising Mike, who just nodded as Anna placed her napkin next to her plate and stood to follow. He was reaching across the bar for the pie when he felt Anna next to him and he turned, curious, looking at her anxious face.

Hesitantly covering his hand with her own, Anna squeezed Mike’s fingers and he looked down at her questioningly. “Talinda was right,” she spoke quietly, trying to keep her words from reaching the kid’s ears. “I wouldn’t want to do this every day… it’s hard to see you Mike, so happy, when I feel…” She stopped, and looked away for a moment, before continuing, “I miss you… I will never understand this, but I could never hate you. I guess what I want to say is I’m sorry.” Mike shook his head, about to speak, but Anna kept going. “I want the best for our kids, and shutting you out isn’t going to be the best thing for them. Talinda says it can work if I try, if I can look beyond my feelings and work with you instead of against you. So I want you to know, I’m going to try. I mean, I made it through this meal, so it can only get easier, right?” She looked down at their hands and waited, wondering what Mike was thinking.

Mike was stunned. Not once in the week since this meal had been proposed to him had the thought crossed his mind that Anna might be so accepting, that she might come around this quickly. Without even thinking about hit, he pulled her into his arms, hugging her tightly against his chest, lowering his lips into her hair and kissing her softly. “Thank you,” he whispered, relief washing over his body as her arms squeezed him back. “That means so much to me, Anna.”

Just then, Chester came into the kitchen to remind Mike he had to whip cream for the top of the pie, and their eyes met over the top of Anna’s head. The softness around Chester’s eyes as he smiled told Mike there was no jealousy there, and Mike smiled back, his heart thankful and happy. _Maybe… just maybe, it’s all going to work out._ Mike was afraid to be too hopeful, but this Thanksgiving meal had been a turning point, another huge hurdle overcome. Releasing Anna he made to slice into the pie as Chester spooned sugar into the cream and turned on the little hand mixer. Minutes later, the cream was light and fluffy, and together the three of them made their way back to the dining room with dessert plates, the pie, and the sweetened whipped cream.

As expected, Otis’ pie was delicious, the little boy beaming with pride, even as his sisters ate mostly Chester’s whipped cream and scooted the pie around on their plates. Anna seemed more relaxed than she had before her confession in the kitchen, and Mike was feeling optimistic about things in a way he hadn’t for months. He wanted to find a moment to thank Talinda for talking with Anna, but it didn’t seem to materialize as he and Chester refused help for cleaning up the rest of the dishes, sending the kids out to the garden to play as their wives drifted into the den with coffee.

“Well, that went better than I expected,” Mike started, covering a dish and sliding it into the refrigerator.

Chester looked up from rinsing a plate before placing it in the dishwasher. “Yeah, Anna seemed to loosen up a bit before dessert… what was that all about?” His tone was low and curious, not confrontational at all.

Mike’s eye flicked toward the den before he answered, his voice also low. “I think she’s starting to accept us. Already. I never thought it would be so soon.” His eyes were glowing as he handed Chester another stack of plates to rinse. “I need to thank Talinda for whatever she said.”

“Oh, Mikey, that’s so awesome. See? I told you things would be okay. It just takes time. Everyone deals with things differently.” They finished the dishes in contented silence, listening to the shrieks from the backyard and the soft laughter from the den, smiling secrets at each other over hot water and dish soap. “It’s been a very domesticated day,” Chester laughed as he closed up the dishwater and pressed the on button. “I haven’t done dishes in forever!”

“I know. I usually end up doing them.” Mike dried off his hands and then whipped the towel out to smack Chester in the ass. “You’re finally pulling your weight a little.”

“Well, it _is_ my house,” Chester shot back, dancing away from the towel and flicking water from his wet hands at Mike’s face.

Using the towel to wipe his eyes, Mike growled playfully, “I’ll get you back for that later, Bennington.”

“Counting on it,” was Chester’s response, just as Tyler stuck his head in the back door.

“Dad! You and Uncle Chester should come out and play football with us! Otis and I decided you can be team captains. Bennington versus Shinoda!” Tyler yelled into the kitchen.

Chester looked at Mike, grinning. “Oh, you’re so going down, Shinoda. My girls are tacklers.”

“Of course they are,” Mike sighed, tossing the towel down and following Chester outside, ready to try to inspire his kids to victory.

**********

The football game ended when Chester slid on the grass, turning his bad ankle the wrong way in typical, klutzy Chester fashion. The kids disappeared upstairs as Mike helped Chester into the den, propping his foot on the ottoman and wrapping ice around the ankle. 

“We didn’t lose,” Chester pointed out as Mike fussed over him. “It’s an injury, a delay in play. You’re only up by three, Shinoda, we were about to score.”

“Well, about to and did are two different things,” Mike retorted, handing him three advil and a glass of water. “Here, take these. Let’s try to keep the swelling down. We can’t have you off that foot too long.” Their eyes met and held as they continued their conversation without words.

_You can still fuck me with an injured ankle, Shinoda._

_Is that all you ever think about, Ches?_

_You brought it up. And yes, I’m always thinking about you naked. You regularly wear too many articles of clothing. Who needs both a hoodie and a jacket?_

Mike rolled his eyes, grinning, as he sat down next to Chester on the sofa, looking up to see Anna and Talinda staring at them both. “He’ll be ok,” Mike offered lamely, aware they had been watching the two men as they stared into each other’s eyes. The air around the four of them was awkward for a moment, until Chester broke the silence.

“The game is on pause,” he finished stubbornly, furrowing his brows at Mike in mock consternation until Mike busted out laughing.

“Okay, okay… we’ll finish next time we’re all together.” Mike looked at Anna then, wondering when that might be, and Anna smiled tentatively at him.

“Talinda and I were just talking about that… and Christmas.”

“Christmas!” Chester exclaimed, the throbbing in his ankle temporarily forgotten. “I fucking love Christmas!”

Mike giggled, reaching over without a seconds thought, squeezing Chester’s thigh. “You’re such a big kid!” He left his hand where it was, looking at Anna and asking, “what about Christmas?”

Anna didn’t take her eyes off Mike’s hand on Chester’s thigh. “We, um… I… we…”

Talinda jumped in smoothly, “we were thinking that today turned out well enough, we could do this again, have everyone together Christmas afternoon?”

“Yes,” Anna had found her voice, though her eyes were still on Mike’s hand. “After gifts at home, of course. If you want to come over after gifts…” her voice trailed off uncertainly.

Mike wasn’t sure how he felt about missing gifts for the first time with his kids, but Chester jumped into the conversation immediately. “Okay, that’s settled. Christmas dinner here. Sounds great, right Mikey?” He looked at Mike, his smile radiant.

“Of course, Ches… it sounds great, Anna, thanks,” he answered, not really giving Anna an answer about missing the opening of gifts, but he had time to decide how he felt about that.

Another hour passed of small talk, Mike checking on Chester’s ankle every ten minutes or so, until Anna glanced outside at the sun sinking in the sky, declaring it was time to go home. As she headed upstairs to collect her three, Mike patted Chester’s leg. “How’s it feeling?”

“It’s going to be fine. I don’t think it’s twisted,” Chester answered, gingerly moving his foot in a circle. “I think I can walk on it.”

“Well, don’t push it. Why don’t you stay here, I’m going to help Anna with the kids, and say my goodbyes. We should be heading back to Rob’s, too. He should be back from Dave’s by now.”

Chester nodded. “I’ll be right here,” he smiled, looking over at Talinda. “I’m sure we have things to talk about.”

Mike met Anna and the kids at the bottom of the stairs. “Go tell Uncle Chester and Aunt T goodbye,” he prompted, watching them scurry off for hugs and kisses, then turning back to Anna. “I know today hasn’t been easy, but I want to tell you how grateful I am to you for trying.”

“I am trying,” she agreed quietly, then called into the den, “good night, Talinda, I’ll give you a call. Good night, Chester!”

The kids came running back into the foyer as both Chester and Talinda called their goodbyes. Mike held the door for them all as they made their way out to the car, where the drama began. Otis and Abi were already buckling their seat belts when Jo started her meltdown in the driveway.

“But, I want to go to Uncle Rob’s with Papa!” Jo was stamping her foot angrily, whining as Anna told her again to get in the car. Exasperated, Anna looked at Mike, and he knelt down to eye level with his little girl.

“Josie, you’re coming to Uncle Rob’s tomorrow, for the entire day. It’s late, and all we would get to do tonight is take baths and go to sleep. Tomorrow we will have all day with each other, it will be great. Now, be sweet for Mama and get in the car with Abi and Otis, and I will be there in the morning, sweetheart, I promise you.” Mike was using his most soothing, most convincing voice, but Jo still broke down into tears, clinging to Mike.

“I want to go with Papa!” she exclaimed through sobs, and Mike looked up at Anna, at a loss. Five year olds were hard to reason with, and Mike had tried his best.

“Josephine Kasumi Shinoda, it is time to go home. You need to get in the car with your brother and sister now, and I will discuss with Papa later when you may spend the night at Uncle Rob’s.” Anna was using her firmest mom voice, and it got both Jo’s and Mike’s attention.

“Really?” Mike asked at the same time as Jo, though her little voice was instantly excited and Mike’s was incredulous and hopeful. “Do you mean it, Anna? Really?”

Anna nodded. “We’ll talk about it later, after the kids are asleep, if little miss here can get in the car.” She looked at Jo, who released her death grip on Mike and obediently climbed into the car, and Mike shut the door behind her after kissing her forehead one more time. “I’ll give you a call tonight, okay?”

“Yes, okay, I’ll be sure my phone is on,” Mike stumbled over his words, anxious and excited for the impending conversation. He hadn’t had the kids with him overnight since before he’d moved out of his house, before they’d started the North American leg of the _One More Light Tour_ , and in his head he was already planning pillow forts and hot cocoa, movies and games and tickle wars. He watched Anna get in the car and pull around the Bennington’s circle drive, and he stood there, watching them leave, his head spinning with all that had transpired over the course of one day.

Just as he turned to walk back inside, he spotted Chester coming out the front door, hobbling toward Mike’s car. “You ready to go? I’ve already said bye to the kids,” he explained, slowly making his way down the sidewalk.

Mike shook his head. “You shouldn’t be putting weight on that foot yet, Ches,” he said as Talinda came out the door behind him, two dogs following her.

“I told him that too, but you know how stubborn he is,” she complained, holding out Mike’s keys. “I figured I’d save you the trip back inside.”

“Thanks, T,” he said as she dropped the keys in Mike’s hand. “And thank you for talking with Anna. I owe you one.” He slid an arm around Chester’s waist, helping him toward the car.

“I think you owe me more than one,” she responded, her eyes on Chester.

Mike felt the blush crawl up his neck, realizing how stupid his comment had sounded. “Of course,” he agreed quietly, shutting the door behind Chester and turning to face her. “I’m sorry, Talinda.” 

He couldn’t tell if she was about to laugh or cry, but she managed to say, “take care of him Mike. Not just tonight. You know what I mean. He’s all yours, now.”

Mike nodded, his heart beating hard in his chest. He knew exactly what she meant. He got in the car and looked at Chester, his head leaning back on the headrest, eyes closed. _All mine, now._ He started the car, ready to get back to Rob’s and relax.


	44. Conversation

“We agreed on tomorrow, Ches! She’s bringing them tomorrow and they’re going to stay _the whole weekend_.” Mike was practically bouncing on the bed in excitement when Chester stepped out of the bathroom, minty fresh and smelling like lavender.

“That’s awesome! Rob’s cool with them being here all weekend?” Chester opened the dresser and took out a tiny red pair of boxer briefs, slipping them on as he looked at Mike. 

“Yeah, I talked with him about it before Anna even called. Ches, it’s going to be the best, we’re going to watch movies with popcorn and play games and it will be like a big sleepover… oh… how’s your ankle?” Mike’s face dropped when he saw Chester wince while putting his weight on the bad side.

As was typical, Chester dismissed his worries with the wave of a hand. “It will be fine tomorrow, it’s just being a pain in the ass right now. Good as new after it gets some rest.” He hobbled over to the bed, pulling back the duvet on his side and sitting down. “The weekend sounds great, Mike. One weekend to be live it up, but you know every time you have them it can’t just be a party. You still have to like, discipline and stuff.”

“What are you, my therapist?” Mike grinned. “I know. I’m just so relieved she’s letting them come. I haven’t read a bedtime story in months, Ches. I miss being Papa. I’ve been just Mike an awful lot lately, I want to be Papa again too.” He stood up, making his way around the side of the bed to Chester. “I’m going to get a quick shower. Think you can stay awake until I get out?” Mike folded a pillow in half and propped it under Chester’s ankle. “How’s that, my love?”

With his head thrown back in a pillow, Chester sighed in contentment. “Perfect. Go get your shower. I’ll be right here.” Mike pulled the duvet over him and kissed his forehead before turning toward the en suite. “And there’s nothing wrong with being Mike, and there’s definitely nothing “just” about you,” Chester called after him. 

Turning, Mike winked and blew a kiss in Chester’s direction. “I’ll only be a few minutes, Ches.”

He left the door open as he started the shower, knowing that Chester could see him as he stripped down, hoping that he was watching. _I’ve known him almost twenty years and he makes my heart race like nobody ever has. I love him so much. This has been such a great day. Well, except for the ankle. But other than that, everything seems to be going the right direction. I love it when things work the way I want them to._

In the middle of shampooing his hair, Mike thought of Otis and Tyler again, at the glances they shared over dinner. _Right. I need to talk to Ches about them. We need to tell them, I think. I wonder if Chester noticed them acting weird today._ His mind consumed with thoughts of the kids, how to tell them the rest of the news, how they would react, and all the possibilities, Mike rinsed his hair and then soaped his body, taking extra care in the places Chester most liked to kiss him. He smiled as the sponge ran over his skin, planning the mischief he could silently get them into after his shower. _I am so ready to be in our own place, not worrying about keeping it down for Bourdie’s sake. Being alone in Hawaii was so nice…_

Chester was miraculously still awake when Mike slid between the sheets, tucking his body up against Chester’s and kissing his shoulder. “Mmmmm… you’re so warm, Ches.” He rested his head on Chester’s pillow as his hand snaked across his chest, pulling them close together, mumbling, “today was such a great day. I’m so glad we got to be together with the kids… and Anna and Talinda… it really gave me a lot of hope today.”

“It was a great day,” Chester agreed. “I’m really surprised how well Anna is doing with all this… I mean, Talinda knew I was in love with you from the day I met her. She was the one that told _me_ I was in love with you.” Mike looked at him skeptically, and Chester nodded his head. “Seriously! She picked up on that right away. But you never told Anna how you felt about me, and she never said anything about it, so I know this has got to still be pretty shocking.”

“Yeah…” MIke thought about that for a minute, before realizing, “she said I talked about you in my sleep, though. So, I think she had some sort of idea, you know? Apparently unconscious Mike can’t keep a secret.”

Chuckling, Chester ran his hand across Mike’s back. “Well, that’s the truth. And if that’s the case, if you were talking about me in your sleep around her, she probably thought we were fucking long before we were.”

Mike lifted his head, an eyebrow cocked, and rose up on his elbow to look at Chester. “What do you mean? Was I really that bad? At the sleep talking?”

“Was? Mikey, you _still_ talk in your sleep.”

The look of astonishment on Mike’s face was priceless. “ _Really?_ ”

“Um, yeah… did you think that stopped just because we’re together now?” Chester had a goofy grin on his face, but Mike’s expression slowly faded into a frown. “What’s wrong, my love? It’s nothing to worry about, you’re sweet in your sleep.” He giggled again. “You’re sweet when you’re awake, too,” he purred seductively, winking at Mike.

Mike laid his head back on the pillow, his bottom lip still turned down unhappily, pouting slightly. “What kinds of things have I been talking about lately?”

It took a moment for Chester to think. “Sometimes you’re talking your way through a dream, and every once in a while you’ll mention things you’re stressed about, like Anna, or the tabloids… but mostly now you’re just talking to me. You always tell me you love me.”

Little fingers of ice gripped at Mike’s heart. “Ches,” he whispered fearfully, “do you think I ever said that when I was sleeping beside Anna? Do you think she knew?”

“I don’t know… but I wouldn’t have been surprised. You know that’s why I thought maybe… remember when I told you we shouldn’t sleep together anymore?” Chester’s voice was cautious; he was afraid of Mike’s reaction to the question.

Did he remember? Of course Mike remembered. It was the night Chester had shattered his heart, the night Mike had miserably played through their set, wondering how he was going to be okay without Chester beside him to lull him to sleep. It was the night before Chester had kissed him for the first time, that sweet, gentle, perfect first kiss, the first time that Mike had been awake and consciously participating, and able to remember it the next day. “Yeah… I remember. Of course I remember. That was one of the worst nights of my life. What about it?”

“It had all just reached the tipping point. You know what I mean?” Chester looked over at him and rolled his eyes. “Of course you know what I mean. You lent me the book, I didn’t even know that ‘the tipping point’ was an actual thing before I read that.” 

He could see that Mike was about to tell him to get to the point so he hurriedly continued, “every night, Mikey. Every night I was holding you, and every night you were telling me that you loved me. And every night I would ache for you, just laying next to you, not knowing if you really wanted to be with me or if you were just talking in your sleep... and it got to the point that I knew I would lose my mind and do something crazy, something to test you, if I didn’t put an end to it… or if I didn’t just lay it all out there, confess to you what we’d been doing and see if you really wanted to be with me. So… I think there’s no way she didn’t know, Mike, not the way you were saying my name in your sleep, talking to me… I can’t see how you wouldn’t have been doing that at home. There’s no way she didn’t at least have a feeling that something was changing. It’s probably a good thing I forced your hand when I did, before it got more complicated.” 

Mike sighed, feeling the shame wash over him. _I can’t believe she doesn’t hate me. I’d hate me. She must have thought I was cheating on her for years._

“Mikey,” Chester said softly, “it wasn’t often in the beginning, I promise. In fact, it was so infrequent that I thought I was just dreaming it. It really had only gotten to be a constant thing when we started this last tour in May. I couldn’t have gone on if it had been longer than that.” He reached for Mike, capturing his pouty bottom lip in a tender kiss, and he felt the tension in Mike’s body relax as they tasted each other, the kiss sweet and unhurried. “You are a dream come true. Even if confessing it all to you was scary, and so hard, I’m glad I did it. Reality is so much better than I ever could have dreamed.”

“Even with all the drama?” Mike asked, his voice small.

“Even with all the drama.” Chester turned a little more on his side, shifting to make his elevated leg more comfortable. “I didn’t mean to ruin your mood, Mikey. Tell me how to make you smile again,” Chester breathed against his lips, and Mike pressed his mouth to Chester’s harder, reaching to slide long fingers along his cheek and into the little bit of hair Chester had now, his thumb brushing against his skin. 

Breathing in Chester’s scent, tasting his lips, his tongue, feeling his warm skin, Mike knew he didn’t want to talk any more. He broke the kiss just long enough to husk into Chester’s open mouth, “it’s more fun to show you,” before he claimed his lips again, their tongues sliding against each other’s passionately, the conversation Mike wanted to have about Otis and Tyler forgotten in the heated tangle of their bodies.

********** 

The next morning, Mike was leaning against the bar, taking his first sips of the coffee Chester had carefully made for him, when he realized he’d not spoken to Chester about Otis and Tyler the night before, as he’d intended.

“Hey, Ches?” Mike felt refreshed, rested and relaxed after an excellent night’s sleep. It always happened after their lovemaking that he woke up feeling invincible, ready to take on the world and whatever it threw his way on that day. Now that he remembered, today was the day he wanted to tell his children about Chester.

“Hmmmm?” Chester’s head had disappeared into the refrigerator just as Mike spoke to him, and all Mike could see was his nice little backside in low-slung purple pajama pants. He smiled, his hand itching to reach out and grab that ass.

“I kinda got the feeling Tyler and Otis know about us when I was watching them at dinner yesterday. They were watching us, at least. I could tell,” Mike said, not easing into the conversation at all.

Turning away from the refrigerator with milk in his hand, Chester looked at Mike coolly. “Yeah, I got that vibe yesterday, too. What about it?”

Mike took another sip of his coffee, considering. “I don’t know, I think we need to talk with them about us. Maybe they’re starting to figure it out, or they’ve overhead something… hell, they could have even seen it online. Last time we were between tours Otis had gone online to look up Linkin Park’s show dates to see where I was. They could have seen anything by now. I’d rather be the one to tell them, you know? And my kids will be here this afternoon…” Mike trailed off, looking at Chester for his thoughts.

Chester filled a bowl of fruity pebbles with milk, replaced the milk into the refrigerator, and sat down at the bar before he spoke, gesturing to the bowl of cereal. “Brad would die if he saw these in Bourdie’s house. I told him that a box once in a while wouldn’t kill him.” A spoonful went into his mouth while Mike waited for him to come to the point. “You’re probably right. They probably know. What exactly do you want to say to them? I mean… they’re ten and eleven. Not exactly prime age for discussing bi-sexuality.”

“Is that what we’re going with? Bi-sexual?” Mike had been curious about the correct terminology since they’d become a couple. 

Looking up from his fruity pebbles, Chester shrugged. “Makes sense to me. I mean, we’ve both had marriages and children. Obviously we had no problem having sex with our wives… and we have no problem having sex with each other… seems like bi-sexual would be the right word.”

“Oh, God, what a discussion to walk into the middle of this early in the day,” Rob lamented, entering his kitchen. “Why on Earth are you discussing bi-sexuality at breakfast?”

“Mike was trying to figure out how to tell our kids they’re going to have two dads now,” Chester explained.

“Wait a minute,” Mike interjected, “I said no such thing!”

Chester pointed his spoon at Mike. “But that’s where you were headed.”

“No! I mean, kind of… I guess… I was thinking we should at least tell them that we’re living together, or something like that.” Mike looked stumped, unsure what exactly he was trying to say.

Rob looked at both of them like they were stupid as he reached into a cabinet for a coffee cup. “You don’t think they already know that?” He looked at the contents of Chester’s bowl and his face brightened. “Are there any more fruity pebbles?”

Chester nodded toward the pantry, “I put them away already. Mike, you’re overthinking this.”

“As usual,” Rob’s voice came from inside the walk-in pantry.

“They’re kids, but we should give them more credit. We’ll tell them that we’re going to live together, in the same house, once we move out of Rob’s in the spring. Let’s feel that out and see what they have to say. Baby steps. Let’s give them the control of how much they want to know right now. If they ask questions we’ll tell them the truth.” 

Chester looked as though it was all so simple, and to him, it probably was… having kids with three women lent itself to a certain level of acceptance of others by all of his children. Mike wasn’t so sure his kids would take it all in as easily. “Okay,” he said hesitantly, “we’ll start there. And see what they say.”

Rob plopped down into a seat next to Chester, a gleeful smile on his face. “Don’t tell Brad I’m eating these,” he grinned, as he lifted a spoonful of fruity pebbles to his mouth.

**********

The kid’s arrival at Rob’s after lunch was a tornado of activity as they excitedly hauled in overnight bags, both girls still clutching loveys that they slept with-- Abi’s a worn pink elephant with one eye and a tail that had long since lost its curl, Jo’s a five year-old purple rabbit in remarkably good condition. Once the bags were settled into the gameroom and the loveys deposited in the other spare bedroom, Chester and Rob were immediately convinced by Jo’s doe-eyed plead to play a game of Candyland with the girls, but Otis wanted to spend some time with Mike and his artwork. 

“Go on,” Chester said, waving both hands at Mike. “We’ve got this. I’m a Candyland Champion,” he boasted, looking over at Rob. “I’m gonna take you down, Bourdie.”

Rolling his eyes, Rob responded, “it’s a game of luck, Chester. It’s all about the order the cards are in when you draw.”

“Shhhh! Don’t ruin the game!” Chester hissed dramatically, throwing his hands over Jo’s ears, causing both girls to dissolve into laughter.

Mike shook his head and went downstairs with Otis, where they sat on the sofa together, their quiet sketching punctuated with shrieks of laughter from above every few minutes. This was their silent bonding time, something Mike had missed doing with his son the past few months. They’d been at it for a while when Mike asked quietly, “whatcha working on, son?”

“A face,” Otis replied, his eyebrows knit together in concentration.

Faces had been the hardest for Mike when he’d first started drawing, and so he wasn’t expecting to see such a lifelike sketch when he looked over at Otis’ work. “It looks like Tyler,” he said with surprise.

Without looking up, Otis continued drawing as he considered his picture, then nodded. “A little.”

Mike watched as Otis started to shade in the little curls of hair on the subject’s head. Trying not to disturb their work, Mike looked down at the hibiscus blossom he was drawing, floating lazily on water that stretched into haziness, and the memory of a moment shared with Chester in the bath in Hawaii, with hibiscus flowers floating all around him, brought unmistakable love into his voice. Keeping his eyes on his work, he spoke softly. “Otis, I want to be the one to tell you something, something about me, that I think you are old enough to know.” Otis didn’t look up from his shading, the tip of his tongue sticking out of the corner of his mouth as he concentrated. “Some time in the spring, I’ll be leaving Uncle Rob’s house, and you and your sisters will have your own rooms at my house.” Mike looked at him and smiled, his eyes crinkling in anticipation. “My house… and Uncle Chester’s house. We’re going to be living together.” 

Finally, Otis looked at Mike, his expression solemn, serious, and Mike’s heart skipped a beat, his mind instantly defaulting to the worst case scenario. _He’s upset. He doesn’t want us to live together. He hates me. He hates Chester. Fuck. Now what?_

Mike was about to say something more when Otis spoke up. “You’re going to live with Uncle Chester the way that you used to live with Mama.” 

It was a statement, not a question. His eyes held onto his father’s, wide but judgement free, and Mike took a deep breath, setting aside his pencil and reaching to stroke the top of his son’s head, the fine dark hair exactly like his own. “Yeah. Your Uncle Chester and I… we…”

“Tyler says you’re in love with each other,” Otis stated matter-of-factly.

Again, Mike was surprised. “Tyler said that? When did Tyler say that?” 

With a shrug and looking back at his portrait, Otis said, “yesterday. Before we played football. We were talking about how you were both living with Uncle Rob, and Tyler said Aunt T said it’s because you’re in love with Uncle Chester.”

Mike didn’t quite know what to say. It was all new territory for him, and a little terrifying that his son already seemed to have an understanding of his relationship with Chester. “Well... Otis… how do you feel about that? That Uncle Chester and I love each other?”

“I don’t see how it’s any different than it’s always been. Except that you don’t live with Mama anymore. I think you have always loved Uncle Chester. He makes you laugh, like, really laugh, the way I do, or Abi or Jo. Tyler says Aunt T said that you and Uncle Chester make each other happy.” 

“Yes, we do. Very much.” A tentative smile returned to Mike’s features before Otis continued.

“Mama doesn’t make you happy anymore.” Again, it was a statement, not a question.

Sighing, Mike looked down at his drawing. _How am I supposed to answer that?_ “Well, Mama doesn’t quite make me happy the way that Uncle Chester does. I love your mother, Otis, and she will always be special to me. She gave me you, and your sisters, and I will always love her for that gift.” Mike stopped, his throat tight with emotion.

Otis looked back down at his drawing, then at Mike. “I wish that you and Mama were happy together, Papa, but I love Uncle Chester, too. And he loves me?” His big brown eyes showed a hint of fear for the first time in their conversation, and Mike immediately reached over and pulled his son into a tight hug.

“Your Uncle Chester, he has so much love in him, Otis. He loves you like his own son already. He was there when you were born, you know. And he’s always going to be there for you, just like me, just like Mama. You have so many people that love you, and we don’t all have to live in the same house to love you. I’ve never known anyone with as much love to give as your Uncle Chester, and I promise you, he does love you, a whole bunch.” Mike’s chin was resting on his son’s head, and he felt little arms tighten around him.

“I love you, Papa. I can’t wait to have my own room at your new house.”

The relief settled into Mike’s body as he squeezed Otis tight again, kissing the top of his head. These conversations weren’t easy, but they were turning out to be so worth the anxiety… and now that this one was out of the the way, Mike couldn’t wait for their popcorn, hot chocolate, and movie night.


	45. Fingerprints

Before Mike was really aware that it was happening, a routine of sorts had been established with Anna and the children. They spent an afternoon together every week, just the four of them, and they spent one night every weekend at Rob’s, sometimes with Chester’s kids as well. Rob had been a spectacular friend in every respect, never once complaining that his quiet life had been taken over by three to six kids at any given time, or Chester’s euphoric Christmas spirit. 

Right after Thanksgiving, Chester had convinced Mike that they _absolutely must have_ a Christmas tree, and not any tree, but a giant, real tree, complete with the Christmas tree smell and all the trimmings that went along with it. Mike had tried to rein Chester in, to keep Christmas from taking over Rob’s house, but Chester was in love with Christmas and the decorations and the joy of giving. It had been a losing battle from the moment a tree had been mentioned.

_“We need a Christmas tree,” Chester announced one morning at breakfast. “Let’s go get one this afternoon, a huge one! And it has to be real, I have to have a tree that smells like a Christmas tree. Oh! and Mikey, we need decorations too. You should eat faster, I’m ready to go now. What’s taking you so long?”_

Once a perfect tree had been selected, and after what seemed like hours of negotiation, they had settled on blue and silver for their first Christmas tree together, and Rob had even graciously allowed the tree to be placed in the den. Mike had to admit it was a beautiful tree, and Chester had been downright gleeful. Not only was there a Christmas tree, but piles of carefully wrapped presents, a child-sized nutcracker, a nativity scene, and fake mistletoe that Chester had spread throughout the house, as though he needed a reason to kiss Mike in every room. Once Rob had been caught under the mistletoe once and subjected to Chester pouncing on him for a sloppy wet kiss, he had been warily watching the ceiling of every room of his own house as he entered them. After that ridiculous kiss, Mike had spent an entire day carefully avoiding all the mistletoe just to frustrate Chester, and had ignored every plead for a kiss, pretending that his feelings had been irreparably hurt by Chester’s assault on Rob, which then resulted in the best night Mike could remember of Chester trying to earn his good graces back in the bedroom. 

The rest of the month had passed in a blur of learning to balance family life in their new normal, complete with all of the considerations of others. It was all starting to finally settle into a routine, and Mike was grateful, for there was nothing worse in his mind than uncertainty. December was coming to a close; Christmas was tomorrow, and then the new year would be bringing finalized divorces and a new home. Unbeknownst to Chester, Mike had been diligently planning since they’d come back from Hawaii for their first home together, weighing his options and making lists and plans that he would be sharing with Chester as soon as he had all the details worked out. Planning things for Chester was fulfilling for Mike, and on this particular night, he was about to execute a plan he’d been working on for weeks.

“We’re going to dinner after I drop them off,” Mike had whispered into Chester’s ear on his way out the door to return the kids to Anna’s, being sure to brush his lips ever so slightly against the tender white earlobe as he spoke. “It’s Christmas Eve. I’ve made reservations.” Rewarded with Chester’s dark, lustful eyes and a squeeze of their interlocked hands, he had felt desire spread through his body. It was so easy to want Chester all the time. 

The kids had been excited about Christmas, and dinner at the Bennington’s the following day. Even though Mike was sad to take them back to Anna, he couldn’t help but be excited about his evening out with Chester. It seemed that more often than not lately they had at least a few kids with them, and alone time outside of the bedroom had been scarce. Lost in the planning and execution of the evening, Mike’s thoughts were jarred back into reality when he arrived back at Rob’s to find Chester looking like he’d just stepped out of a magazine shoot- dark denim and high black boots, a wine colored t-shirt and a matching denim jacket over top, a bit of gel in the small curls of his hair, black plugs in his ears and his eyes… _Fuck. Me._

“Ches? Are you wearing… eyeliner?” Mike stepped toward Chester, reaching out to touch his cheek.

The glint in Chester’s eyes was all the confirmation Mike needed. “Maybe,” he answered coyly. “Depends on if you like it or not.” 

It was barely there, just enough to lend a hint of smokiness to Chester’s already lustful eyes, and Mike shook his head in amusement. “It’s been years since I’ve seen you in eyeliner. _Fuck._ I remember seeing pictures taken of you with Dead By Sunrise and thinking how fucking sexy you looked… what are you trying to do to me, Bennington?” Mike cupped his hand around the back of Chester’s neck and drew him close, his other arm around his back, reveling in the moist heat of their kiss, pressing his lower body against Chester. “You better be careful or we won’t make it to dinner.” 

“That sounds like a promise, not a threat,” Chester managed to gasp out as Mike’s hips rolled against his, the emcee’s arousal obvious through both layers of clothes. “If you want to go to dinner you better go change before I find other things for you to do.” He pushed Mike away and watched as he ran up the stairs two at a time, trying to burn off some energy.

_It has to be perfect, everything has to be perfect. I have to wear something I know he likes, something he thinks I look good in… how did I plan everything else but not what to wear?_ Mike glanced at his watch and stress bit into him, he hadn’t left himself much time for a decision this monumental. _I have to choose quickly and that’s it, no going back. Pick something, Shinoda._ Taking a leap of faith, he chose an outfit and tossed the t-shirt and shorts he’d been wearing into the hamper, changing quickly before brushing his teeth and going to work on his hair. 

When Mike came back downstairs wearing black jeans, a grey and black checkered button down with a black jacket, his hair styled to perfection, Chester lifted his eyebrows in appreciation. “Mmmm, sexy Shinoda,” he voiced his approval, and Mike relaxed a little when Chester’s eyes followed him with undisguised lust simmering in them. _Excellent choice._

“C’mon, or we’ll be late,” Mike instructed as he grabbed his keys, forcing Chester out the door and into the car. “I promise, it will be worth it,” he said as Chester pouted, reaching over and rubbing any available portion of Mike’s body as he drove, trying not the be distracted by Chester’s hands.

The whole dining experience was one innuendo after another, and it was hard for Mike to stay focused on the meal when Chester stopped teasing and practically gave him a hand job under the tablecloth in the expensive seventy-first floor restaurant in LA, stopping just before Mike embarrassed them both, huskily saying “let’s get out of here,” before they’d even had dessert. 

Chester had a way of derailing the best laid plans, and Mike was already anxious enough before Chester asked, “can we stop for ice cream?” and of course, Mike couldn’t deny him the ice cream, even though it lead to Chester sliding his hand under Mike’s jacket while they stood in line, his hot little mouth next to Mike’s ear as he purred, “there’s no popsicles here,” sending all the blood in Mike’s body immediately back to his groin after he’d finally managed to talk his hard on down, his brain and his dick remembering the night they’d licked that _fucking cherry popsicle_ off each other, and the amazing sex that had followed. 

He was impressed that he didn’t walk into Rob’s house later that night and fuck Chester up against the wall of the kitchen, as turned on as he’d been all night, Chester and his _fucking_ lips and his _fucking_ voice and his _fucking_ eyeliner ringed eyes teasing him ruthlessly. 

“Let’s go to bed,” Chester murmured as he reached for Mike, his eyes captivating and dark, the eyeliner smudged slightly, “I’ve been wanting you all night.” He ran his hands down Mike’s back and pulled him close, burying his face into his neck and sucking on the soft skin next to the collar of Mike’s shirt.

It took everything in Mike to not melt into Chester’s arms and forget his plan as he felt warm lips on his skin, needy hands on his back, listening to the sexy coos and breaths in the silence of the dark kitchen. “Just a minute,” he mumbled as a half answer, his hands with a mind of their own sliding into Chester’s back pockets, squeezing him before managing to say, “come into the den first.”

With an impatient sigh Chester allowed himself to be led into the den, where Rob had left the Christmas tree lights plugged in for their return. A sense of unease crept over Mike as he led Chester to the sofa, plopping down on the cushion and pulling the vocalist down to sit next to him. 

The lights from the tree were reflecting off Chester’s pale skin, and Mike felt his stomach twist, sucking in a breath as he looked at the vocalist, who was obviously aware of the effect he was having on Mike as a slow, seductive smile slid across his features. “What are we doing in here, Mikey?” he asked, his voice honey smooth, his eyes still beckoning Mike to take him furiously right there on the sofa. “I don’t think we should defile Bourdie’s sofa with him right upstairs…”

Mike shook his head, trying to get his scrambled thoughts in order before he messed everything up. “I just… I wanted to talk to you first, before we went to bed.”

Immediately Chester’s face became serious. “Is everything okay? What’s wrong?”

“No. Yes! I mean, everything’s fine, nothing is wrong,” Mike stumbled over his words and Chester’s eyebrows furrowed together as he cocked his head to the side. Clearing his throat, Mike tried to make better sense. “Well, you know, the guys want to meet up later in the week to talk about next summer’s touring, and I wanted to ask you, first, before that meeting…” Mike’s voice trailed off as he stood up and knelt under the Christmas tree, digging under a pile of presents for a small box wrapped in silver paper, a navy blue ribbon tied around it, handing it to Chester.

“It’s not Christmas yet,” Chester admonished, holding the pretty package in his hands. 

“I want you to open this one tonight, Ches. I don’t want to wait anymore. Please,” Mike’s voice was urgent, convincing, the anticipation killing him, and he smiled when Chester gave in and untied the bow on the box. “You have to go slow, one thing at a time,” he cautioned, and when Chester looked up at him from under long lashes, the fluttering in his stomach was immediate and strong. _Oh, God. He looks so fucking sexy tonight. This is perfect._

When Chester lifted the lid off the box, he was greeted by tissue paper, which he gently moved to the side to reveal a photo in a black frame. It was a selfie they had taken on Mike’s phone on the beach in Kauai, the ocean sparkling in the background, the sun creating a rainbow halo around them as Mike grinned, his hair blowing in the breeze and Chester’s face in profile as he pressed his lips against Mike’s cheek. “This is one of my favorite pictures from our trip… when I look at my own face, I see all of the joy that you’ve brought into my life since I’ve known you. I want you to know that’s how you make me feel, Ches… full of joy and life. When I’m with you I don’t feel forty, I feel like you and I are forever twenty-three. Those five weeks that we’re the same age, you know?” 

Chester looked up from the picture with a huge smile that mirrored Mike’s in the photo. “Yeah, I know what you mean. This is a perfect picture of us, Mike.” He leaned forward and pecked Mike on the lips before he asked, “do I get to go on?”

“Yeah.” Mike gestured to the box and Chester moved aside more tissue, lifting out another small frame. It was the photo that Mike had taken of him at the waterfall, another picture of him in profile, the mist creating another halo around him, this one white. “And this one… it’s my favorite picture of you that I took there. There’s something magical about you, and you don’t even understand it, I know… but there has to be some magic that creates these halos around you. You’re my angel.” Mike flushed, feeling a little embarrassed as he spoke, but Chester was listening attentively, not looking the least bit uncomfortable, and it gave Mike courage. He swallowed down his nerves and pressed on. “The most special thing about these pictures is that they are ours. _Only_ ours. They’re not spread all over the internet for everyone else, they’re just between us. And I love that.”

That brought another huge smile to Chester’s face. “ _Only ours._ Where have I heard that before?” he teased, and Mike smiled back at him, pleased that he remembered all of the conversations they had back when their relationship was first changing. 

The atmosphere shifted then, the crinkle around Mike’s eyes disappearing as he bit his bottom lip nervously. He reached for the photo in Chester’s hand, taking it and sitting it aside with the other, and took a deep breath. “Go on. There’s one more thing in the box.” 

Chester watched Mike bite down on his bottom lip again, and his own hand was shaking as he pulled back more tissue to reveal another flat box, this one black. Taking it out of its tissue nest, he hesitated, suddenly feeling that whatever was in this box was what was causing Mike to be so nervous, and he needed a minute to screw up the courage to see what was inside. He glanced at Mike, who was now chewing on his bottom lip, his eyes locked onto Chester’s face in anticipation. Keeping his eyes on Mike’s, he opened the box, and took a deep breath before he looked down at the contents.

Inside were two matching rings, thick bands made of brushed platinum with channel set black diamonds all the way around. Chester picked one of the bands up, watching the gems glint in the twinkling lights from the tree, and he looked at Mike, his eyes as dark as the diamonds in the rings. “Mike,” he whispered, “these are… wedding bands. Mike?” He looked down at the ring he was holding between his thumb and forefinger, watching as Mike gently took it from him and inspected it.

“This one is mine, Ches.” He placed it back in the box and picked up the other, holding it up. “See? This one has my initials… and my fingerprint… engraved on the inside, for you. I didn’t even know they could do that, take our fingerprints and engrave them, until I was researching wedding bands and saw this, and I thought… we’ve left our fingerprints on each other for almost twenty years. We leave our fingerprints on each other all the time, through touch, through writing lyrics, singing… every day, my hands have touched you and yours me… I’ve never been the same since you first touched me. And when we’re apart, your fingerprints will still be on me, marking me, making me yours. And mine on you. Emotionally and physically.” Mike’s voice was breathy and low, anxious as he took Chester’s hand in his own, holding it close and tight against his chest. “So… Chester… I know we aren’t lawfully divorced yet, but I can’t go another day without knowing that you’re going to officially be mine. You’ve changed my life, Ches, and I can’t imagine being without you. Will you do me the honor of marrying me, next to the waterfall where I took this picture, and carry my fingerprints with you every second of every day, and be only mine, always?” Mike was confident but his eyes were still hopeful, and he squeezed Chester’s hand, waiting.

It wasn’t even a thought, just a reaction, as Chester nodded, “yes, yes, of course, Mike, I told you months ago that we would make it official when we could.” He watched Mike place the wedding band on his finger, promising it was just for sizing.

“I know we can’t wear them yet, but they were perfect, Chester, and I wanted to give them to you for Christmas… it’s beautiful on you.” 

Chester could swear that the smile on Mike’s face was the largest Shinoda grin he had ever seen. He fluttered his hand out in front of him, looking at the thick dark band again his pale skin, obliterating any sign of the tattoo underneath. “I never want to take it off. I never want to see that tattoo again.” Mike giggled, the low sexy giggle reserved for Chester, and Chester continued, “that’s the only one I regret, you know? Stupid fucking tattoo.”

“You’ll never have to look at it as long you keep my ring on your finger,” Mike breathed, bringing Chester’s hand up to his mouth, placing a warm, tender kiss to his palm. 

Chester closed his fingers around the kiss. “Caught it,” he smiled, and Mike’s eyes glowed with happiness. “All mine.”

“All yours… only yours,” Mike agreed, moving in to kiss Chester with the confidence only a man who has just proposed and been told yes has, the hand with Chester’s ring held tightly in his own, his thumb caressing over the band. “I wish you could wear it now. I want everyone to know. I want everyone in the fucking world to know, Chester.”

Laughing, Chester said, “I don’t think you have to worry about that, Mike. The whole fuckin’ world will know as soon as we announce it. You know, the price of fame and all that.”

“Chester fuckin’ Bennington,” Mike teased in mock frustration, kissing him happily again. “I wanted to make it official before the band meeting. I want to tell the guys this week, and make sure we leave time in any tour plans to do this right, to take a few weeks away to get married and have a proper honeymoon, and all of that. I want it to be perfect, and I don’t want the band to be in the way of that.”

For a brief moment, it seemed strange to hear himself say that he didn’t want the band to be in the way of their relationship, when he had promised the guys that their relationship wouldn’t get in the way of the band. Any concern he had was forgotten as Chester lifted his ring out of the box and placed it on his finger, _just for sizing_ , admiring how the band looked on his hand, teasing him about being able to play guitar and piano with all that weight on his finger. They lazed happily on the sofa for a while, grinning like mad, making plans, trying to stay quiet as they giggled together, before taking the rings and placing them carefully back into the little black box, their secret. Arms around each other, they stumbled up the stairs to hide their little box safely way and sink into bed, their hands feverishly leaving fingerprints in the wake of every touch, every caress, every stroke.


	46. Secrets

“Bourdie, what the _fuck_ is this?” 

From his seat at the bar in his kitchen, Rob looked away from the notes he was reading to see Brad waving a box of fruity pebbles at him. “Ah… those are Chester’s.” The narrowed eyes and pursed lips of the guitarist told Rob he wasn’t buying it. “Well… I may have… um… had a bowl. Just one, though.” 

Brad sighed and opened the box, smelling the fructose and dye and non-organic rice, his eyes closed. “You know you shouldn’t be eating this stuff. There is absolutely zero nutritional value in these. I can’t believe he lets his kids eat this crap.” It looked as though Brad was about to stick his hand in the box before he found his restraint, closing the box and setting it back on the counter in the spotless kitchen where Chester had left it earlier that morning. “And he just left this sitting out? Aren’t you tired of them yet?”

Rob shrugged. “It’s not so bad. They do at least _try_ to keep me from hearing them… in bed with each other every night.” Even with his back facing the drummer, Rob could see the flush on Brad’s face, creeping up to his ears. 

“Every night? Jesus. It’s not like we’re teenagers,” he scowled, knowing his face was red, unwilling to turn and face his friend. 

“Well, look at it this way. At least they aren’t lying to us about it anymore. They definitely aren’t hiding it well… though they never really did.” As always, Rob was trying to be diplomatic about everything. Sharing the house with his best friends really wasn’t an issue for Rob. They were clean, Chester particularly a neatnik, and they all had things that took them out of the house and out of each other’s hair most days. Sometimes it was fun to have Mike around when he was up in the studio playing around with new ideas. It was even fun to have the kids over and get to be cool Uncle Rob for the weekend before sending them back to their respective mothers’ houses and regaining his peace. Really the only thing Rob missed was falling asleep without his white noise machine on… in the past it was used only on nights he was having trouble falling asleep. Now it was necessary to drown out Mike’s low giggles and Chester’s moans, because no matter how hard they were trying, Chester Bennington did not know how to be quiet. Ever. “They’ll be gone soon enough, Brad. It made sense for them to stay here…. what else were we going to do with them?”

Pulling a bottle of kombucha out of the refrigerator, Brad shrugged. “They could have just, you know… stayed married.”

Rob finally put the notes he was looking at down and looked at Brad intently. “I thought you were okay with all of this.” He pointed to the ceiling above them, where Mike and Chester were still upstairs in their bedroom. “They’re really happy, Brad. We’re supposed to be supportive. I don’t understand you, you’ve been hot and cold about them from the very beginning. Just because it’s not the path you or I would have chosen doesn’t mean it won’t work out for the best.”

“There’s just a lot of children involved in their mess, not to mention Anna and Talinda. I don’t know Bourdie, I just feel sorry for their families. If they were going to do this, they could have done it a long time ago and saved everyone a lot of heartache. They’ve been hot for each other for years. No reason to bring all these kids into this disaster.” Setting the bottle down on the bar, Brad plopped down next to Rob and picked up the notes, glancing at them before frowning and looking at the drummer and sighing. “Sorry. It’s just been a lot to take in.” 

Nodding, Rob reached over and slung an arm around Brad’s shoulders, pulling him over for a sideways hug. “It’s all going to work out. And today’s about the band, not about them. It will be good for us to start planning for the summer, thinking about something other than their drama. Why don’t you go ahead and take my notes into the den, I’ll go drag them out of bed. I swear, they’re so lazy when the kids aren’t around.” 

Rob headed up the stairs before he could see the carefully neutral expression on Brad’s face, the expression Brad had perfected for the past twenty-four years, the expression that always covered his face when talk of Mike and anyone else surfaced, the expression Rob always had taken to mean that Brad was okay. He knocked on the door to the bedroom and Chester responded with an impatient, “we’ll be down in a minute.” Shaking his head, Rob retreated back downstairs, finding that Dave and Joe had arrived and were talking to Brad, who was still in the kitchen. 

Behind the closed bedroom door, Mike stood in front of the mirror in the bathroom, gel in his hands, working on his hair, mentally giving himself a pep talk for the band meeting that was about to occur in… less than five minutes, he realized, glancing at his watch.

_Today’s the day. I’m ready. I’ve got this. The guys are going to be happy for us. Everyone. Even Brad. I’m ready for them to know. They’ll understand then, we aren’t just sleeping together. We’re in this for the long haul. Married. We’re getting married, and today the band is going to know._ He grinned at himself in the mirror, excited to share the big news with his best friends.

“Damn, Shinoda, you sure are in love with yourself,” Chester teased, lounging against the door frame and catching Mike’s eyes in the mirror. “I mean, I could look at you all day and people would call it love, but you staring at yourself is just all ego.”

Mike turned and swatted at the front of Chester’s shirt with a gelled hand, missing. “Don’t even get me started on the subject of ego. I was thinking how close we are to telling the guys about us, Ches. Just excited, you know? I’ve been dying to share the news with _someone_. Five days is too long to keep this kind of secret.”

Christmas day had been excruciating, the knowledge of their rings hidden away at Rob’s eating a hole in Mike’s stomach, creating a nervous excited energy he hadn’t been able to shake. Somehow both he and Chester had managed to make it through the day without tipping anyone off to their secret. It hadn’t been easy, and keeping the secret from the guys all week was equally difficult, but they were finally ready to share, and the excitement on Mike’s face caused butterflies to alight in Chester’s soul.

He was quick, catching Mike’s hand by the wrist before he got gel on the front of his shirt. “Absolutely. Five fuckin’ days. Feels like five years.” Holding Mike’s sticky hand out to the side, he leaned in and kissed the emcee tenderly. “I’ve never wanted to share something so much with them. I can’t believe my luck sometimes. If I had stayed home that day, if I’d never taken that audition…”

“But you did, and here we are,” Mike breathed, ghosting his lips over Chester’s, feeling the warmth of Chester’s breath on his skin. “Here we are, and I love you, and we’re getting married.”

“I love you too, you know.” Chester smiled, releasing his hands and nudging him toward the sink. “Wash that mess off your hands and meet me downstairs. I’m going to go get us a good seat before Joe gets my favorite spot on the sofa.”

Mike rolled his eyes and stuck his hands under the water as Chester disappeared. With a last look in the mirror, he switched off the light and stepped into the bedroom. Glancing at the open door, he quickly opened the drawer where they were hiding their rings under Chester’s carefully folded underwear, checking on them, then patting the meticulously folded briefs back into place with a smile before heading downstairs to the meeting. 

Chester was sprawled across one entire sofa, causing Brad, Dave and Rob to sit together on the other and Joe to be in the chair at the side, his expression disgruntled. Mike didn’t even bother to ask Chester to move, just lifted his legs and slid underneath them, dropping the legs onto his lap and looking around expectantly. Everyone was on time.

“It feels weird to not have a band meeting in your studio,” Chester whispered to Mike thoughtlessly, his eyes widening as he realized what he said. 

“It’s okay, Ches,” Mike whispered back, leaning over and softly kissing his cheek before turning his attention to Rob. “It’s your house… you want to do the honors?”

It was the second time Rob had taken on the responsibility of reviewing their meeting rules, and Mike couldn’t help but think of the night in Tampa when they’d met in Rob’s hotel room to discuss how he’d kissed Chester on stage. Though it had only been four months, so much had happened in that amount of time. He couldn’t believe they were already discussing a new year. With all the changes that were coming for just the two of them, the prospect of touring and possibly starting a new album seemed daunting. _But we promised, not to let us get in the way of the band. If the guys want to play some more shows, we’re going to play more shows. We’ll just work the shows out to where we’ve got a month off. Maybe July. July in Hawaii._ His attention turned back to the group when he heard Rob stop speaking, and his eyes caught Brad’s, who looked back to Rob without a smile. 

Chester had sat up by the end of the rules, but then rested his head on Mike’s shoulder as though being awake at ten am were too incredibly difficult to fathom, and inside, Mike smiled at his lover’s inherent laziness. From across the room, Brad had been trying to keep his focus on the page of notes and questions he’d brought to the meeting, but his eyes kept drifting back to Mike and Chester. _We need to go have lunch or something. He’s feeling left out again, I can tell. He’s been distant ever since we got back from our trip._ Mike felt his heart sink in his chest, the nervous excitement turning to queasiness. _He’s not going to take our news very well. Maybe we should wait. Maybe I should tell Brad first._

Just as Mike thought about suggesting to Chester that maybe today wasn’t a great day, the vocalist leaned his head back to kiss Mike’s neck, whispering, “are we going to tell them now or at the end?”

Before Mike could even respond, Dave laughed and pointed at Chester, “you two are going to have to behave. Looks like we’re going to have to create another rule. No kissing in band meetings.”

“Aw, what fun is that,” Chester pouted, sitting up and grabbing Mike’s hand in the process. It just didn’t feel right if they weren’t connected somehow.

“It’s not fun for those of us _not_ getting kissed in the middle of the meeting,” Joe complained.

“Jealous, Hahn?” Chester taunted, sliding his hand up the front of Mike’s shirt as he tried to bat Chester’s hand away, his eyelids fluttering and a breathy giggle escaping his mouth. “Ooh, Mikey, you like that?” Chester moaned exaggeratedly. 

“Okay, that’s enough,” Rob reprimanded with a smile, “I hear enough of that at night.”

As the guys burst out laughing, both Brad and Mike’s faces burned a deep red. After a few more jabs at Mike’s expense, he held up a hand. “You guys… seriously, you guys… we have something we want to tell you. Can you be serious for a minute?” He looked around at the lingering mirth their faces, and Mike could tell Joe was ready to slap him with another obvious metaphor. “Come on, you guys…”

“Fine, fine,” Joe said, leaning back into the chair he was sitting in, “what’s so important?”

“Well… before we get too heavy into planning next year...” Mike looked around the room at his bandmates, and his face broke out into a grin. “Well… we wanted to tell you guys that we’re going to get married this summer. So… we’d like to factor that into the plans for touring and stuff.”

It felt reminiscent of the night that they had told the band the true nature of their relationship- stunned silence at first, then everyone talking at once.

As usual, Dave was the first one to find his voice. “Congratulations, man! That’s exciting! Knowing you, you’ve already got it all planned out, don’t you Mike?”

“I’m your best man, right? I deserve something for putting up with you two for months,” Rob reasoned, though his tone was light and he was obviously happy for them both.

“Where’s your engagement ring, Chaz?” Joe teased. “Did Shinoda buy you a big diamond?” 

Bouncing up off the couch, Chester exclaimed, “I’ve been wanting to show you guys for days!” He looked at Mike. “Can I go get the rings? Can we show them?” Mike nodded and Chester danced upstairs toward their bedroom to retrieve the rings. 

Mike looked at Brad, the only person who had yet to say anything about the news. _Please say something, please be happy for us, please don’t ruin this._

It was right then, as soon as Mike made his silent plea to Brad in his head, that everything started to fall apart. 

“You’re _what_?!” Brad’s face was incredulous, his eyebrows drawn together, his mouth dropped open slightly. “Did you say you’re getting _married_?! You’re not even divorced yet!”

Mike shifted uncomfortably on the sofa. “Well, yeah… that’s why we aren’t wearing the rings yet. But I just couldn’t wait any longer. I mean, you guys had to know this was coming, right?” Everyone nodded except Brad, who was still just staring at Mike, his face a mixture of incomprehensible emotions. 

“You… you can’t… just… get married!” Brad spluttered through the words, his face red and his eyes huge. “Have you thought this through at all? This is all too fast, Mike, this is not you at all!” His voice was escalating, almost sounding angry as he spoke. His eyes jumped from Mike to Dave, to Rob and then Joe, accusation heavy in his voice. “I mean, you guys? You all just think this is okay? It’s too soon!”

Dave shot Brad a warning look and immediately jumped into the discussion. “Brad. Hey, man, you need to calm down. This is not our decision. It’s their decision. And, honestly, it’s been twenty years.”

With a feverish look in Dave’s direction, Brad dismissed the bassist’s words and stood up, looking back toward Mike. “You can’t. You can’t do this Mike. I-”

“BRAD.” Dave interrupted more emphatically, at his side in a second, his hand on Brad’s chest, whose eyes were still on Mike. “I think you should sit down.”

Joe and Rob were looking at each other in confusion, completely lost in the entire exchange between Brad, Dave, and Mike, and Mike was looking up at Brad with what looked like… fear? There was fear in his eyes, and almost imperceptibly, Mike shook his head at Brad, his face pleading. 

Brad didn’t respond to Dave’s hand or Mike’s eyes; he plowed right on ahead with his emotions breathlessly, words streaming out of his mouth rapidly. “I can’t do this. I can’t just sit here and watch this anymore, Mike. You’re making a mistake! Chester isn’t going to commit to you anymore than anyone else he’s been married to, and then you’re going to be left behind and I can’t watch anyone else put you through what I put you through back in high school, Mike, I love you too much to let that happen!”

The world felt like it was turning in slow motion as Brad realized what he had said, as he watched Mike’s shocked face staring at him wide eyed, as he felt Dave’s hand on his chest, pushing him back to the sofa, as he noticed Chester standing at the entrance of the den, a small black box in his hands, his smile fading as he heard Brad’s words. Time wasn’t in slow motion. Time was stopped. 

Rob’s mouth was agape, disbelief radiating from his face at Brad’s admission. Even Joe looked confused and concerned.

“Stop, Brad, stop. That’s in the past. It’s history, you have to let it go.” Trying unsuccessfully to keep Chester from hearing him, Dave’s voice was low and firm as he forced Brad down onto the sofa beside him.

“What? What’s in the past, what’s history? Brad? Mike, what’s going on?” Chester took a step toward the couch Mike was still sitting on, motionless, staring at Brad, who was breathing heavily, his face pinched in horror at the mistake he’d just made, the long kept secret accidentally revealed.

Mike still couldn’t speak. _I’ve fucked up, I should have talked to Chester about Brad, and here’s fucking Brad telling everyone we used to be a thing! Jesus, what am I going to say now? Oh my God, Oh. My. God.”_ He dropped his face into his hand, mumbling, “Ches, it’s nothing, Brad’s losing his mind about us getting married because he says it’s _too soon-_ ”

“No. No, I’m talking about what he said about high school. What about high school?” Chester was quickly escalating, his voice edging upward, his eyes confused. “Did you?” He paused. “Were you guys?” Another pause, then, his voice high, shaky, questioning, “Mike? You never told me anything about you and… Brad. Oh, God.” 

Finding his feet, Mike scrambled off the couch and over to Chester, holding onto his wrists since his hands were full. “We’ve _never_ talked about _any_ of our previous relationships, Chester. It’s never mattered. And it still doesn’t. Brad and I… it was all just fooling around in high school. No sex. I swear, but why does it matter?” He stopped, looking back at the guys, all sitting still, all listening to their conversation intently, everyone except Dave shocked by the revelation that Mike and Brad had ever been together. Lowering his voice, he locked his eyes on Chester’s and plead, “let’s go talk about this upstairs, please. Without everyone listening.”

Chester looked down at the box in his hands, and back at Mike, his beautiful brown eyes begging for the opportunity to explain. “No.” He brushed Mike’s hands off him and strode with purpose to stand in front of Brad, who was shielding his face from view. “No,” he repeated, his voice lower and stronger. “I want to know, _Brad_ , what’s really going on here. You’ve been against us since the beginning.” His eyes shifted to Dave, who looked as though he was about to protect Brad from him, and shook his head. “No, Dave, you stay out of this.”

Venomously, he continued, “you want to know what _I think_ , Brad? I think this is more than just regular jealousy, more than how you’ve always resented me for… how did you put it? ‘Waltzing in here and becoming a fucking star off the back of your hard work?’ Isn’t that what you told Mike all those years ago when you couldn’t stand to be in the same room as me?” Chester scoffed, anger in his voice, years of competitive frustration between him and Brad bubbling to the surface. “I think it’s _a lot fucking more than that, Brad_ ,” he sneered, standing over the guitarist. “You think I stole him from you? Is that what this has been about, not just the past few months, but ever since you caved and _let me_ be in the band? You knew, even then, you were going to lose your best friend to me. Little did I know, you and _my fiancé_ used to be a thing!” 

All of the color had drained from Mike’s face as Chester’s voice had dropped lower and lower, but the fire had risen in Brad’s cheeks, and before Dave could stop him, he was face to face with Chester, standing again, his fists balled up at his sides. “ _Used_ to be, Chester, and that’s all! There’s nothing between me and Mike, other than the fact that we were _best fucking friends_ before you came along! And I’ve been here the whole time, watching this all unfold, watching as you dragged Mike further and further into this… this… emotional black hole, this _drama_ between the two of you, never allowing him to emotionally separate from you! Even when it wasn’t about you, it’s always been about you. You’ve never seen it, but Mike would drop everything for you, any time you needed him. It destroyed his marriage because he was so fucking wrapped up in you, and I don’t trust you not to destroy him. You don’t know, Chester, what you do to people, what you do to Mike! _If you fuck this up you’ll destroy him_ and I won’t let you do it! I won’t!” Brad was shouting, tears streaming down his face, as he called Chester out for his flightiness, implied he lacked commitment to his marriages and children, and accused him of not loving Mike the way that he should. It was a lot to lay out in the open all at once. 

Chester took a step back, the anger gone from his face, replaced with confusion. “You think I’m going to leave Mike? Just because I left Sam, because I left Talinda for him? That’s what this is about?”

Not backing down in the least, Brad forced out between gritted teeth, “yes. I think you want what you want when you want it, Chester, and then when you get it, you’re tired of it and move on. And Mike isn’t like that. I’ve seen it in him from day one. He was the one who defended you in the beginning, when you were fucking high at shows, or hungover, or too stoned to get out of bed. _He’s loved you from the very beginning, and I saw it happening and said nothing, because I didn’t think it would ever get this far._ I swear if you fuck this up, that will be the end of us. The end of Linkin Park. You better think really hard about whether or not you’re going to stay married to Mike for the rest of your life, Chester.”

The room fell silent, Chester and Brad face to face in a showdown, Mike hesitantly hovering at Chester’s side, and Rob, Joe, and Dave helplessly watching it all unfold from where they were sitting.


	47. Only mine.

A silence had fallen in Rob’s den as Chester and Brad stood locked in their battle stance, the air thick with electricity, implications, anger, and disbelief. After a few moments, Rob stood up, placing a hand on Brad’s shoulder, and everyone watched as Brad’s whole demeanor changed, his shoulders sagging forward and his head dropping, one hand coming up to cover his eyes again. 

When Rob spoke his voice was calm, soothing, the way one would speak to an upset child. “Brad… nothing about Mike and Chester is new. If you strip away everything else and look at what’s underneath, they’ve always been loyal to each other. I think you’ve gotten yourself worked up over concerns that aren’t even real. I mean, is this really about Mike and Chester? Is it about Mike? Or is it about your relationship with Chester? I think we all need to take a step back for a second and figure out what’s going on here. You’ve brought this up with all of us here so now we’re all in this, and nobody is leaving until we’re sorted. You can’t just… threaten the end of Linkin Park like that. That’s totally unreasonable. We’re not breaking up, no matter what happens. C’mon… come sit down.”

With a grateful glance at Rob, Chester looked down at the box in his hand, opening it and looking at the two rings nestled inside, touching one with a fingertip, before he looked back up at Brad, his heart in his eyes. “I’ve never wanted anything as much as I want to be with Mike. Not anything, not even Linkin Park. And if I have to choose between the two, I choose Mike, every single time.” He sucked in a breath and lifted his chin, almost defiantly, as he looked at Brad. “I’m going to marry Mike, whether you think it’s going to last or not, and I’m going to prove you wrong. You and anyone else in this world that thinks this is wrong. You don’t have to, Brad, but if you can’t give us your blessing, it would mean a lot to me if you simply accepted us, and accepted me, because I’m not leaving him. You’re right, I don’t have the best track record. But this band, this is the only thing I’ve been loyal to my whole life, and Mike is the reason. I’ve got his fingerprint right here,” Chester said quietly, holding up his wedding band, showing it off, then with the ring he pointed to his chest, “and right here. It doesn’t matter who has come before, there will be nobody else after. Mike knows that, so what you think? It’s irrelevant.” He turned to Mike, his lips touched by the briefest of smiles. “I don’t care what you did, or with who… all that matters is that you’re with me now. Nobody else. Only mine.” Then, turning back to Brad, he waited, having offered his attempt at making peace. 

With a sigh of relief, Mike slid his arms around Chester from behind, resting his chin on the vocalist’s shoulder, and looked at Brad. “Brad? Please... you have to understand, there’s nothing fast about this. You said it yourself, you’ve been watching it happen for twenty years.”

Uncertainty and embarrassment washed over Brad’s face as he allowed Rob to guide him to the chair next to Joe. He was studying his hands as he spoke, calmer than he had been just moments earlier, and then he sighed. “I’ve really fucked this up. Chester, it has nothing to do with anything that happened between Mike and me, that’s ancient history. It’s everything to do with me not wanting to see him hurt. I just want you to be sure.” Brad looked up, around the room at Rob, Dave, and Joe, then back at his hands, rubbing the calluses in one hand with a single fingertip from the other. “Nobody else has said anything but I feel like someone needed to. And the other stuff… that wasn’t meant to be said. I’m an idiot for that, and I let my… emotions get the best of me. The only other time I’ve seen Mike hurt is… back then… and I’ve hated that memory and myself for that.” Peering up at Mike again, he flushed, shame in his eyes, before flicking his gaze to Chester. “And yeah, Chester, I may have said those things when you first came on board, but you know yourself that you were insufferable in the beginning. It just didn’t seem fair that you walked in and became the star when we’d been busting our asses for years… and I was too immature at the time to see all the work you were putting in, too. I came to respect you and your contributions over time. It just took me a while. You _are_ Linkin Park, you’re the reason we’re still all doing this.”

Shaking his head, Chester interrupted. “I’m not Linkin Park. _We_ are Linkin Park, the six of us together.” With the hand not holding the box containing Mike’s ring, Chester covered Mike’s hand with his, linking their fingers together. “I mean it, Mike, I don’t care what happened before. It was just a surprise to hear.”

“Um, yeah, just a little bit. So what happened between you and Mike?” Joe asked, sticking his foot out to lightly kick Brad’s shoe.

Brad looked up, his eyes meeting Mike’s. “I don’t… I think…”

“We were young, we experimented a bit. Just drunk kissing,” Mike said quietly, squeezing Chester around the middle as he spoke, and Brad relaxed a bit. Mike wasn’t going to tell the band the rest of the story, that was for Chester only, and that story was for later that evening.

Joe looked skeptical. “It seems like it was more than that for Brad to be acting so fucking crazy all these months. Unless you’re just that good of a kisser, Shinoda.”

It was the first laugh from Chester since Brad’s explosion. “Trust me, Hahn, he’s _just that good._ ”

Nobody else laughed, but Chester didn’t care. He twisted around in Mike’s arms and connected their lips softly, tilting his head to the side as the kiss deepened. He was taking possession of what was his in front of everyone, just as he had done in the dressing room once before, and Brad knew it. This time he looked away, turning his face toward the window, catching Dave’s sympathetic eyes for a moment. Dave knew; he knew that Brad was regretting ever letting Mike move on, but he wasn’t about to open up that part of the discussion. If Brad wanted to tell everyone that this was just about his initial jealousy of Chester, just about Chester’s relationship record and his fears for Mike, then Dave certainly wasn’t going to add anything else to discuss. 

Mike pulled Chester close, trying wordlessly to communicate that Chester was, in fact, the only one. Even though he knew, rationally, that the vocalist was secure with their relationship, the direction their marriage announcement had taken made Mike feel as though he owed Chester something more. With his kiss he was trying to tell Chester that he was right, anything Brad thought was irrelevant. _I don’t care about Brad, I don’t care about the band, I don’t care about anything but you, Chester, and making you laugh and holding you close and watching you sleep and you’re my world, can you feel that? I need you to know that you’re my only one. I love you._

When they broke apart, Mike leaned back in for a gentle, tender kiss, tracing his lips over Chester’s, then softly kissing the corner of his mouth once, then again, before he opened his eyes to watch Chester’s flutter open as well, each looking not only into the other’s eyes, but directly into their heart. Nobody in the room could deny the deep intensity with which their two frontmen loved each other, it had been apparent for so long, their relationship twenty years in the making, all the good and all the bad making them exactly who and what they were today. Neither of them would change a moment of the past, and neither of them wanted to look back. All they could see in each other’s’ eyes was the future, sprawled out ahead of them, shining like glitter.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry I’ve been so judgemental,” Brad said softly, still looking toward the window. “I’m sorry, Mike… you’re my best friend… and I just want the best for you.”

“I _have_ the best, Brad. I need you to see that,” Mike responded, his eyes only on Chester, his expression softened by deep affection. “Please stop worrying about me. I know what I’m doing.”

Brad looked at him thoughtfully, but he bit back the words he wanted to say about Anna and the children, about his own personal set of morals and the choices he wished Mike would have made, knowing he really had no right to say anything or impose his feelings on his oldest friend. Now that his anger at Chester had been spent he was left feeling foolish, wondering why he couldn’t have kept his mouth shut. There was just something about how Chester _always got what he wanted_ that frustrated Brad, always had, even though he’d become accustomed to that long ago. It didn’t make it any easier to see that he had won Mike, after all these years, away from a happy marriage and the life he had carefully constructed. He kept telling himself it had nothing to do with any feelings he might still have for Mike. If he repeated it enough, it would have to be the truth. “I’m sorry, you guys, for being such an asshole. I think… I’ll be right back.” Without another glance he strode toward the kitchen, and the five remaining band members heard the back door open and then click shut behind him.

Chester and Mike sat back on the sofa, Chester fondling his ring and smiling at Mike again, and Dave nodded his head thoughtfully as he watched the light return to their eyes. “Let’s leave Brad alone for a while. He’ll come back when he’s ready.” Looking around at his bandmates, he picked up a pen and his notebook, and said, “now, let’s get back on track. We have tour plans to make.”

**********

It was after they had both showered and were laying in bed together that evening, Chester comfortably in Mike’s arms, his back spooned against Mike’s chest, that he finally asked about Brad. Carefully, with only curiosity in his voice, he asked, “Mikey? I know we have never talked details about past relationships and such, but I’m curious, I can’t help it… what happened between you and Brad? It’s got to be more than just drunk fooling around for him to be so worked up over it. It seems to me he’s still harboring some feelings, or at least some guilt. Will you tell me about it?” He waiting, barely breathing, as he felt Mike’s warm breath on his neck.

 _I should have done this a long time ago,_ Mike thought, running his nose along Chester’s neck, feathering his lips over the warm skin, one arm wrapped around the vocalist’s chest and the other tucked up under the pillow they were sharing. “You sure want to talk about this now? You’re so _warm_ ,” Mike breathed out on the exposed skin under Chester’s hairline, closing his eyes.

Shifting closer in Mike’s arms, Chester mumbled, “mmm-hmm. Just tell me so I can forget about it.”

Mike closed his eyes, picturing sixteen year old Brad in his mind, the way his skinny arms wrapped around his legs the first time they went out onto his parent’s roof to lay there and drink, and Brad had been cold. His curly hair tall on top, cut close on the sides, the same cheerful smile he had now on a face without lines, his eyes youthful and optimistic. “You know we’ve been best friends since junior high… I don’t remember how it all came about but one night we went up on my parent’s roof to drink liquor we’d stolen from the cabinet in the dining room, and we ended up kissing.”

//

_”Mike!” Brad gasped anxiously, “this is dangerous! We can’t go out there, we’ll get in trouble!”_

_Mike reached his hand back inside the window for his friend. “Nah, I come out here all the time. My parents won’t come looking, I promise. They think we’re hanging out, probably think we’ll just fall asleep soon. Come on, it’s not that high. And I promise it’s worth it.” He smiled encouragingly at Brad, who still perched uncertainly on the windowsill. “I promise, Brad, come on,” he repeated convincingly._

_With a deep breath and placing his hand in Mike’s, Brad climbed through the window and onto the roof, the pitch causing him to be a bit unsteady on his feet._

_“Hey, hold on to me,” Mike directed, putting his arm around Brad’s back and leading him up the roof. “There’s a space here we can lay down and look at the sky. It’s amazing.” They crept up the roof until they got to Mike’s spot, and dropping down, Brad breathed a sigh of relief. “See? It’s not so bad.” Mike passed him the bottle, his eyes sparkling. “They’ll never know.”_

_Tentatively, Brad took a sip from the bottle of vodka they’d brought with them, coughing as he swallowed, his eyes watering. “Man, that tastes like shit.”_

_“Yeah,” Mike agreed. “I think you’re supposed to mix it with something.” He shrugged, taking another sip._

//

Chester laughed lightly, bringing Mike back for a moment. “You guys drank straight vodka the first time you ever drank? Of course that tasted like shit!” His body shook with quiet laughter and Mike slapped his stomach playfully.

“Do you want to hear the rest or not?”

//

_“Mmmmmike? I think I’m drunk. The stars are spinning,” Brad said, inching closer to Mike, grabbing his hand. “I feel like I’m going to fall.”_

_“I won’t let you fall,” Mike said, turning his head to look at his friend, and suddenly all he could see was the darkness of Brad’s eyes and the way the moonlight glinted off his lips, and he wanted to know what it would feel like to kiss those lips…_

//

“ _You_ made the first move? I’m surprised, Shinoda.” 

“You sure are interrupting a lot, Ches. Anyway, it started like that, the first time it was awkward, you know? Do you remember your first kiss, Ches? With no idea what you’re doing, and add to that the fact you’re kissing your best _guy_ friend when presumably you’ve always liked girls, and think you’re supposed to like girls… it was confusing and thrilling and… eventually I thought I was in love. We’d sneak up there to the roof on the weekends and dream big, talk about the future... art school… Brad was going to be a big shot lawyer someday, and somewhere in all of those conversations I started to think that maybe, maybe part of my future was Brad.”

//

_”What are you thinking about?” Mike asked breathlessly, hovering over Brad’s skinny body, his own body aching with a need that he didn’t know how to relieve._

_Reaching up, Brad traced a hand down the side of Mike’s face, his lips swollen from their kisses. “I’m not thinking about anything, Mike… other than how good this feels. I love being with you.”_

_“Me, too.” He sighed, smiling down into Brad’s half-closed eyes, and it seemed like the right time to ask. “I was thinking… maybe… you wanted to make this official?” Biting his bottom lip, Mike smiled hopefully at his best friend. “Be my boyfriend?”_

_The smiled slowly faded from Brad’s face, and Mike felt a numbness crawl up over his body as Brad raised up on his elbows, pushing him away slightly. “What?” His voice was barely above a whisper. “Mike, we can’t do that. You know… our parents… they’d kill me.”_

_Sitting back on his heels, Mike frowned. “What do you mean? You don’t think they would accept us being together?”_

_“No!” Brad sat up all the way and Mike slid to his side, looking at him in confusion._

_“But… we’ve been together like this almost a year, Brad! I thought you and I… I thought we were going somewhere.” Mike reached his hand toward Brad’s, but he pulled back, shaking his head._

_“You know this can’t work, Mike. You’ve got your art stuff planned for the fall, I’ve got UCLA, we’ve got plans, and… and… I mean, this… we can’t keep going with this.” Brad’s eyes were wide, staring at Mike, the color in his cheeks from their heavy makeout session fading._

_Mike felt like the room was spinning. In just a moment his world had turned, had changed, the guy he was in love with was telling him that it didn’t mean anything to him… it didn’t feel real. “Are you saying… are we breaking up?”_

_Brad threw his skinny arms up to shield his eyes, the way he always did when he was having trouble coping with what was happening. “We weren’t ever really together, Mike, seriously, I thought we were just fucking around!”_

_“I don’t believe that,” Mike said, everything spiraling out of control, his heart feeling as though it were cut into shreds. “You don’t mean that, I know you don’t. You couldn’t. Brad, I… I love you, don’t do this.” For a moment, as Brad’s eyes drifted over his face and lingered on his lips, he thought maybe he’d gotten through to him, but then Mike watched the determination come over Brad’s face and knew he’d lost. Brad was stubborn._

_“It doesn’t matter. You’re going to Art Center, I’m going to UCLA, you’re going to be an artist and I’m going to be a lawyer and we’re going to marry women and have kids and that’s how it’s meant to be. We’re not meant to be together this way, Mike, it can’t work.”_

//

Chester had gone very still in Mike’s arms, listening, and Mike placed a few more kisses on his neck and in his little bit of curly dark hair. “I told Brad I wanted more, and he freaked out about what everyone would think if they knew we were… gay… which I guess I thought I might be, but Brad was vehement that what we’d been doing was just experimentation, just friends.”

“How long did it go on before you broke up?” Chester asked quietly.

“It was like, a year, about… it was the middle of senior year when I asked if he’d be my boyfriend and he… broke my heart… all because he was afraid of everyone’s reaction. It’s funny to think of now, we were nobody in high school! Coming out then would have been nothing, just our parents upset, maybe, but that would have been it… and to think what you and I have been through, and as recognizable as we are now… it’s just been different! When we broke things off, I was such a mess, so confused, upset with Brad, I was pretty broken. It was months before we were sort of normal again, and then we both started school and it was easier, we weren’t together all the time. That’s when the pieces started to come together for the band, and I met Anna, and… well, you know the rest.” Mike sighed. “It really is history, Ches. The only love I have for Brad is as my friend. I swear that to you. I’ve been over it for a long time now.”

Chester turned to face Mike, pressing their foreheads together. “I know. I don’t doubt you for a moment, Mikey, so stop worrying. Seems that Brad has some regrets, but it’s too fucking late for that. He’s going to have to deal with it. He ended up being part of your future… just in a different way than you imagined it when you were sixteen. And his role in your life is what it will always be, it will never be more, and that’s his burden to bear and to figure out. You know, it’s amazing what this band has done. It’s amazing we’re still together, still truly friends, still making music.”

Mike nodded. “It _is_ amazing. And I’m grateful… because when you came into my life, Ches, when you joined the band, it was like walking into the ocean, you surrounded me with warmth, surrounded me with friendship and love and you’ve been my partner in the truest sense of the word from the beginning. I was drawn to you from the moment you opened your mouth and I heard you sing. All those nights in my apartment, finding your voice, writing, getting to know each other… it’s true, you and I started way back then, and even though it took us years to figure it out, I wouldn’t change a thing. Not you, not me, not Anna, or Sam or T, or even Brad. It’s all made us who we are, Ches, and I love you exactly as you are right now.” 

Chester smiled, pulling Mike’s body closer to his own. “We’re so lucky, Mike. I won’t let anything come in between us. I won’t leave you. You’re mine, I’m yours, and to hell with everyone else.” 

“I believe you, Ches,” Mike breathed as Chester kissed his forehead, the tip of his nose, across his cheek, and nibbled on his ear. “All mine, only mine.”


	48. Amends

Brad squinted at the early morning sun coming in the door as he took in Dave, clearly out for his morning run, standing on his front porch. “Hey.”

Holding onto a brick column, Dave pulled his foot back behind him, stretching out his left quadricep. “How have you been, man? You’ve been off the radar since the meeting. It’s been like a week.” He looked at Brad expectantly as he switched legs.

Sighing, Brad moved to the side and looked down at his bare feet. “I guess you want to come in.” 

“I don’t have to, I just wanted to check on you. You haven’t returned my calls.” Brad didn’t say anything, just kept staring at his feet. “Do you want to talk about it?” Dave asked softly.

Finally looking up, Brad’s eyes were troubled and sad as he looked at his friend. “If I wanted to talk about it, I would have returned your calls.” He was still standing to the side, and he waved his hand into the house. “Are you coming in or not?”

Toeing off his shoes, Dave walked in, heading straight for the kitchen. “Where’s Elisa and the kids?” With familiarity born from years of friendship, Dave opened a cabinet and took a glass down, turning to the refrigerator to fill it with water.

“Park. I think. I was still mostly asleep when she told me they were heading out.” With a heavy thump, Brad sat down at his kitchen table, looking down into a plate of what looked like a potato and vegetable hash that had been picked through and pushed around on the plate instead of eaten. 

Leaning against the counter, Dave drank the entire glass of water and reached to fill it up again, asking, “so what have you been up to?”

Brad pushed some potatoes around with his fork before answering, “nothing much. Chilling with the kids, just relaxing… thinking…” His forehead crinkled as he contemplated what to say next. Dave waited patiently for quite a while until he went on, “I feel like an idiot for how I acted in the meeting. I just… didn’t expect them to get _married_. I wasn’t ready to hear that... hell, I’m still trying to adjust to them being together.”

“Them” didn’t need to be defined, and Dave was glad that the guitarist had known why he was there, standing in his kitchen, without having to be uncomfortably direct. “Well… your reaction was a little bit… shocking.”

A potato was the victim of Brad’s frustration; he poked at it with his fork and it bumped off the plate and onto the table, where he stared at it for a moment before sighing heavily. “That’s what I’m talking about. I know Mike’s got to be mad at me for letting out all that stuff about high school, and some of that shit about Chester back when we were starting out.” He looked across the kitchen at Dave, apologetic and unhappy. “You know I love Chester. I never should have said what I did about his marriages or anything else. It was a low blow to bring up his addictions, too. I’ve spent all week wishing I could go back and do that whole conversation over. Just tell Mike congratulations and leave it alone. I don’t know if either of them will forgive me.”

Dave nodded thoughtfully as he made his way over to the table to sit across from Brad. “I think they’ll be okay. Maybe you should talk to Chester. You guys go out and have lunch or something, clear the air. It might make you feel better.” He leaned over, reaching his hand out to still the fork in Brad’s hand that was still pushing food around on his plate. “I have to ask… were you being honest with yourself when you said your frustrations aren’t about your feelings for Mike?”

Dave didn’t let up on Brad’s hand and there was a long silence not broken by the sounds of the fork on the plate before he finally answered bitterly, “I’m not _in love_ with Mike, Dave. I love him, he’s my brother. He means a lot to me. I was being honest when I said I don’t want to see him hurt. He trusts Chester so much… I just can’t help but feel guilty for my part in the whole mess. I mean, if I hadn’t pushed him away, maybe we would have dated for a while… and I’m not saying it would have lasted. I mean, I’m pretty sure at the point Chester came along it would have ended anything Mike and I might have had…” Groaning, Brad pulled his hand away and put his elbows on the table, dropping his forehead into his hands. “I mean, Mike’s always had eyes for Chester, so I don’t think for a second we would have lasted. What I mean is, maybe he wouldn’t have gotten married to Anna. Maybe his kids wouldn’t be going through this shit. I love those kids like my own. I was the one that said we were supposed to get married and have kids and do all of that stuff that people expected of us… but maybe if I hadn’t pushed him away, maybe he and Chester would have been together this whole time. That probably sounds so screwed up to you. I don’t know if I’m explaining it right.” Giving up on eating, he pushed the plate away, raised his head, and looked at Dave miserably. “The guilt I feel for pressuring him to “be normal” is what I’ve been thinking about. I feel like my personal set of beliefs and issues caused him to have to be someone he’s not for a long time. And maybe I’m just over reacting to the whole thing.”

Dave blew out a long breath and looked at Brad sympathetically. “It’s not your fault, Brad. Mike made those decisions himself. He married Anna because he was in love with her. He has those beautiful kids because he loved her. And who knows? Maybe if Chester had never come into our lives, maybe Anna would have been enough for him, and would you be feeling this way? You and Elisa are happy. And you have to be able to look at Mike and Chester and see how happy they are. It feels like the most natural thing in the world for them to end up together. I’m sure they wish their kids weren’t caught in the crossfire too, but we don’t always get everything the way we want it.”

Brad didn’t say anything, just looked out the window. 

“I think what has everyone worried right now is whether or not you’ll be able to put it all behind you and move on with us. Telling Chester not to fuck things up or you’d be done with the band was pretty concerning. We’ve never, ever had a fight like that Brad. Not even when _A Thousand Suns_ had to be started over for the hundredth time and we almost missed the deadlines. Nobody has ever threatened to leave. I know when you came back to the meeting you apologized for that, but it’s definitely one of those types of statements that lingers, even after you apologize.”

“I know! I told you, I’ve been replaying the whole thing all week. I wish I would have done it all differently. I need to just… go talk to Chester, probably. Right?” Brad was looking to Dave for answers. 

Nodding, Dave agreed with him. “I think he’d be receptive. He’s always been forgiving, Brad… it’s one of his best qualities. I think you’d stop beating yourself up over all this if you just went to talk to him. It would probably mean a lot to him, and to Mike too.”

Standing and grabbing his plate of uneaten breakfast, Brad headed toward the sink. “I’ll head over there in a bit.” He rinsed his plate and flicked the garbage disposal switch as Dave stood up and stretched. “Hey, man, thanks for stopping by. I guess I really did need to talk about it with one of you guys.”

Smiling, Dave reached over and tugged on his shoelaces, making sure they were still snug. “Of course. I figured somebody needed to come over here and get you to stop wallowing in your self-pity.”

“Whatever, Dave.” Brad rolled his eyes but he smiled back, drying off his hands and following Dave to the front door, opening it for the bassist and peering out at the front lawn. 

“Want to join me? I’ve only got three more miles to go,” Dave asked seriously as he stepped out, adjusting his earbuds and tapping his watch to restart his music.

Brad turned him down, scoffing, “no way, I’m going to get myself in order before I head over to Rob’s. I’ll check in with you later.”

“Sounds like a plan. Good talk,” Dave added as he took off. 

Brad stood in the doorway for a moment and watched him go before he sighed again and turned back to his foyer, shutting the door slowly. 

**********

“Mmmmm, Mikey, I don’t want to wake up,” Chester whined, his face pressed into his pillow, as Mike stroked a warm hand up and down his back. 

“Chester, it’s almost nine o’clock. We can’t just lay in bed all day,” Mike encouraged softly, cuddling his face close into Chester’s neck and breathing over his skin lightly. _But I wish we could lay in bed all day. It’s so peaceful._

“Five more minutes,” Chester mumbled, and Mike laughed under his breath. The vocalist was such a child at times, and it was incredibly endearing, even if it did make them late more often than not these days. Mike’s idea of punctuality had changed since he’d started living with Chester, since they were often so caught up in each other that the rest of the world’s definition of time didn’t really matter, and certainly wasn’t a priority. His hand stilled over Chester’s stomach and Mike relaxed into his body, their breathing falling into sync as his eyes closed, breathing in the soft scent of lavender surrounding them. He felt Chester’s backside against him and he wiggled his hips a bit, seeking a bit of pressure, and he felt more than heard Chester’s giggle. “Mmmm, love, you really want me to wake up, don’t you?”

“You’re so comfortable, Ches,” Mike whispered into his neck, his lips and beard tickling the soft skin, a shiver running through Chester’s body. “You don’t have to wake up, you can lay like this if you want.” Mike felt the tension low in his stomach, the pressure that could only be relieved by being inside of Chester, and he grazed his lips along the perfect white skin behind Chester’s ear, husking, “I want you. I know how much you like sleepy sex, Ches. I’ll be gentle, I promise.” Without answering, Chester reached his hand back to wrap around Mike’s erection and slowly stroke him, drawing a gasp out of the emcee. “Just, let me, Ches,” he said, placing his hand over Chester’s and moving it away. “You just enjoy this. I want you on your stomach, can we do that?”

Without waiting for a reply, he gently rolled Chester onto his stomach as he propped himself up on one elbow, tracing his hands lightly along his sides while admiring the art of his tattoos, then leaning to kiss down his spine, soft kisses of barely there pressure, lingering as he came to the big, bold Linkin Park lettering across Chester’s lower back. “You know what I think, Ches?” He dragged his tongue underneath the lettering, the dips in Chester’s pelvis. “Instead of putting my initials on your chest, you should tattoo my name right here, right underneath Linkin Park.”

Chester turned his head to the side just far enough to mumble, “nobody would ever see it, though. I have to wear pants on stage.”

“It’s not for everyone else. It’s only for me. I’d see it every day. I think it would be so sexy, love.” Mike wiggled out of his boxers as he spoke, then reached for Chester’s, who accomodated him by lifting his hips off the mattress slightly. He tossed both pairs over the side of the bed before he lay his body over Chester’s, his lips close to Chester’s ear. “I can’t think of anything sexier than my name labeling you... Jesus, that would be such a turn on.”

“I don’t think you have a problem being turned on,” Chester smiled with his eyes closed. “I’ll think about it,” he promised, shoving both hands up under the pillow and stretching.

Mike felt the muscles tense and ripple beneath him, sighing in contentment as he slid to one side and played his fingers across the inked skin, imagining a new tattoo meant only for his eyes. It was more exciting than one on display to the world, he would have to convince Chester of that. His skin tingling in anticipation, his fingers gently probed around the entrance he had come to know so well, and he was rewarded with the spreading apart of legs and the small sighs and whimpers that went along with sleepy morning sex Chester. _I want to kiss him so badly. That’s the only part of this I don’t like. I love kissing him._ Pursing his lips, Mike settled for kissing Chester’s shoulder as he pushed first one, then two fingers inside Chester, relishing the tight heat and the way he pushed back into Mike’s hand. “Shhhh,” he reminded, “relax, my love, let me, please…”

Chester turned his head around to face Mike, opening his eyes a crack, his irises lost to the blackness of desire. “I love you, you know.”

“I know,” Mike breathed, his heart fluttering as he leaned in to kiss the lips he’d been wanting, before he withdrew his hand, aching to stroke the precum dripping from his dick over himself, moving to settle between Chester’s legs and nudging his thighs open further to give him access to what he craved. Sinking into Chester, they both held still for moments as their bodies adjusted, and then Mike slid his arm around Chester’s stomach, rolling them both on their sides, still intimately connected. “I love you so much, Ches, you feel incredible…” 

Laying on their sides, Mike’s hand on Chester’s hip, he began to move, short, restricted thrusts with the backs of Chester’s legs resting on his thighs. It was warm and tight but also relaxed and comfortable, and Mike had no intention of racing to the finish line, so long as Chester was behaving himself and staying as quiet as he was at the moment. He spread wet, gentle kisses across every inch of Chester that he could reach, murmuring sleepy endearments occasionally, his eyes closed, listening to every sound of pleasure coming from his lover. _This is much better than getting out of bed, of course Chester is right… he’s always right…_ Mike could feel the urgency for relief rising in his body, the tension compacting into a tight ball that radiated energy through his limbs, but he didn’t want to release the hold on Chester’s hip that was allowing him to continue his sweet lazy morning lovemaking.

“Touch yourself for me, Ches, make yourself come so I can feel you around me,” Mike murmured, his voice low and roughened by sleepiness, his hand gripping Chester tighter as he thrust slowly and deeply up into his body, biting his bottom lip to keep from moaning aloud. He felt Chester move, and Mike could only imagine what Chester was doing while his forehead was pressed up against those tattoos, willing himself to hold off his own climax a little bit longer.

As he hovered close to the edge of falling, he concentrated on Chester’s breaths, his suppressed moans, and forced himself to focus on Chester, only Chester, not himself, not how good Chester made him feel but on how good he could make _Chester_ feel, gliding in and out, in and out as Chester brought himself off, a stifled moan and gentle pulses all around him signalling that he could take his turn, spending himself with a bite to Chester’s neck and the repeated low murmuring of “Ches… oh, Chester… Chester…” as his body quivered and shook and released. They lay, blissfully entwined, their breaths rising and falling together, Mike lazily and repeatedly dropping small kisses to Chester’s back as their heartbeats returned to normal.

After a while, Chester said, “I don’t know which way I like you best, or what time of day… it’s all good. Tell me again why we can’t just lay in bed all day? We’ve got enough money, let’s just do nothing but make each other come.” Mike could hear the smile in his voice. “We’d get sooooo good at it, Mikey.”

“We’re already good at it, Ches,” Mike responded, sounding groggier than he had earlier, when he’d tried to get Chester out of bed. “You’ve almost got me convinced to stay in bed all day today, after that. I don’t want to move.”

As if on cue, they both heard a faint knock on the front door. “Good thing Bourdie has probably been up for hours, he can answer the door. I’m not getting out of bed today. It’s decided,” Chester sighed.

They waited, Mike rubbing his hand absently up and down Chester’s arm, but never heard Rob answer the door. When the knock came again, Mike groaned, “I guess I’ll go get it. I’m sure it’s one of the guys. Why don’t you grab a quick shower, Ches? And pull these sheets off, we need to wash them… again.”

“I hate stripping the bed,” Chester complained as Mike pulled away, separating their bodies with an exhalation of disappointment. “And I hate that, too.” He rolled onto his back and caught Mike’s arm, pulling him down for a quick kiss.

“I do, too,” Mike agreed, pulling on his boxers and a t-shirt as the knock sounded a third time and a text message vibrated on his phone simultaneously. Grabbing his phone, he opened the door to their room and the message at the same time. “Oh… it’s Brad,” he read in surprise. “He’s at the door.”

“Go on, I’ll be down in a few,” Chester dismissed him, stretching his arms over his head before swinging his legs off the bed. “I’m sure he wants to talk to you anyway. He still thinks I’m not good enough for you, he’s still mad about us getting married… I’m sure that’s why he’s been off the radar.”

“It’s going to be fine, Ches. I’ll go see what he wants.” Mike jogged down the stairs, texting Brad “hold on” with one hand and combing his fingers through his hair with the other. He knew he didn’t look presentable but it was early, almost… what time was it now? He glanced at the time on the phone. Ten o’clock? He shook his head. Time always blurred when he and Chester were together. 

When he opened the door, Brad stood there awkwardly for a moment, taking in Mike’s disheveled hair and state of undress. “Oh… sorry, Mike… I figured you guys would be awake by now.”

“Yeah, well…” Mike shrugged, a sheepish grin on his face. “I didn’t realize it was so late. And I have no idea where Bourdie is.”

Walking past Mike into the house and toward the den, Brad said over his shoulder, “I texted him after the second knock. Says he’ll be back, he went to the grocery store.”

_Man, all that being quiet for no reason_ was Mike’s immediate thought. He pushed it away, smiling in spite of the minor annoyance, and asked, “so what’s up, Brad? We haven’t heard anything out of you since the meeting.”

“Yeah… about that… I just wanted to tell you I’m sorry… and I wanted to apologize to Chester, too.” Brad sat down on the chair and crossed his ankle over his knee. “I’m an ass.” 

Mike nodded his agreement. “Yeah, you kinda are.”

A faint smile crossed Brad’s face before he spoke again. “I knew you’d agree with me.” He watched Mike take a seat on sofa, leaning against the arm of the couch and stretching his legs out on the cushions. “Mike… I just… I need to get some things out of my head, I want to talk to you both… where’s Chester?”

“Showering,” Mike said simply, and Brad looked down at his hands.

After a moment, he asked softly, “you guys are really getting married?” 

Mike felt a twinge in his heart for Brad, for his oldest friend, but it only lasted a moment. “Yeah, we are. I’ve never wanted anything more,” he confirmed softly. 

Closing his eyes, Brad nodded, swallowing before he said, “I’m happy for you, Mike, I really am. I know I’ve been all over the place with this, but I want you to be happy. I know how much you love him. You’ve always loved him. I just want you to be okay… and I’m sorry for all the things I said the other night.” The unspoken words-- _I’m sorry for letting our secret out_ \-- floated in the air between them.

He opened his eyes and met Mike’s. “I know. It’s going to be okay, Brad. You’ll see… let me go tell Chester you want to talk to him, he thinks you’re mad at him.”

“I figured he was mad at me.” Brad rolled his eyes. “This has all been such a huge disaster.”

Mike stood up, heading for the stairs. “Well, I’m sure Chester will be relieved that you want to talk. You can fix it all up nicely, you know. Let all of that other stuff go. The past is done, we’ve all made our choices and moved on.” He stopped and looked back at Brad. “I am the happiest I’ve ever been, Brad. _Ever._ ” 

Without waiting for a response, Mike climbed the stairs, the implication taking hold, putting down roots in Brad’s mind. If Mike was the happiest he’d been _ever_ , there was no reason for Brad to hold on to the past any longer.


	49. Confessions

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> TRIGGER WARNING: There is a suicide reference in this chapter.

Anna bookmarked the page that was open on her laptop and sat pondering everything, staring at the computer screen blankly. Thinking about Mike. Thinking about Chester. Thinking about Mike and Chester together, herself on the outside, looking in. Now that she had months of perspective, it was easy to see it had always been that way. On the outside looking in, watching, dismissing their easy intimacies as familiarity and brotherhood. Pushing aside uneasiness she felt with their glances, banter, touches. Pretending not to hear the way Mike whispered Chester’s name in his sleep. It was easier now, now that the initial shock had worn off, to see that it wasn’t much of a shock at all. 

Despite the longing she felt for the closeness and comfort they shared, Anna was starting to come around to the idea of her new reality, a reality in which she was simply Anna, and not Mike Shinoda’s wife. She was under no obligation to speak out to anyone, to read or even update any of her social media. Even though she still felt the need to be aware of her surroundings and her kids’ safety, there was something about having Mike out of the house that took the anxious possibility of fans disrupting their lives down a notch. She was starting to think that freedom would come in the form of moving to a new home and starting over. Away from the memories, away from Mike’s studios, away… away.

Her eyes focused in on the screen again, at the carefully manicured back lawn and pool, the porch along the back wall, the quaint stone accents of the house for sale that she had been contemplating for at least an hour. It was closer to her parents. The kids wouldn’t have to change schools, she’d still be able to get them there. She wouldn’t picture Chester in every corner of her new home, assaulting her with memories of his smile, his infectious laugh, the way his eyes moved over her husband appreciatively. Mike wasn’t going to be her husband much longer. Staying in this house wasn’t necessary. It was time to make something happen that would make _her_ happier. 

With determination she picked up her phone and called Mike.

“Hey,” he answered on the second ring, walking down the hallway to the bedroom he shared with Chester.

“Hey,” she answered back, not quite second guessing herself but not as confident as she’d been moments earlier. “I was wondering if we could meet up and talk this afternoon. I have something I’d like to run by you, and I don’t think there’s any need to do it through our lawyers. Not yet, anyway.” She heard Mike draw in a long breath, then exhale slowly. It was his way of calming his nerves, she knew.

“Well, okay. Brad’s here to talk with Chester, so… do you want me to just come to the house? I don’t mind driving over, if that’s fine with you.” He paused in the bedroom, the sound of Chester’s shower in one ear, Anna’s breathing in the other.

Anna nodded, then agreed, “sure, okay. The kids are with my Dad at the zoo, he needed a pick me up and wanted to spend some time with them today. I can meet you in a half hour, if that works.”

“Yeah, I’ll see you then.” 

Mike hung up the phone and looked at it for a moment, wondering what was going on that Anna suddenly wanted to meet with him. He didn’t like being the one without the knowledge of what a meeting was about. Mike Shinoda called meetings, he didn’t get called to them. It was unnerving. 

He stepped into the bathroom, hazy and misty with shower steam, smiling to himself as he listened to Chester singing while rinsing his body. The humidity was good for the vocalist’s voice, and he usually sang something low and sweet while he showered, and Mike couldn’t even count the number of times he’d lain on the bed and listened, his heart swelling with love and happiness. He lingered by the doorway, enjoying the sounds, until Chester shut off the water and reached for a towel. Stepping forward, he placed it in Chester’s outstretched, groping hand.

“Oh, thanks,” Chester said with surprise in his voice. “I didn’t know you were in here.” 

“Yeah… Brad wants to talk to you,” Mike offered before he said, “and Anna called. She wants to talk something over with me, so I thought you and Brad could have your chat while I go see what’s up with Anna.”

“Anna? I wonder what that’s about.” 

Mike shrugged even though Chester couldn’t see him while he was drying off. “No idea. But it didn’t sound too serious. I’ll let Brad know you’ll be down in a few. I told Anna I’d meet her in a half hour so I need to get moving. I won’t be gone too long.” Chester popped open the shower door and stepped out, the towel slung over his shoulder, naked, pink, and warm. “Damn, Ches, I wish we’d been able to stay in bed all day,” he complained, reaching out to pull Chester close. “Ahh, you smell so good…” He melted into the tender kiss, all sweetness left over from the morning’s tryst. Chester’s fingertips skated over his cheek and felt along his facial hair softly, and he felt Chester smile against his lips. “What… what are you smiling about?”

“I just love you,” Chester said as he stroked light fingers down Mike’s neck and across his collarbone, his eyes sincere and his voice soft. “Don’t be long… come back to me quickly.”

“I’ll always come back to you Ches… always.”

 

*****

 

“Morning,” Chester offered as Brad came into sight in the den, “Mike already gone?”

Brad lifted his head from the back of the sofa where it had been leaning, and peered up at Chester. “Yeah, a few minutes ago.” He sat up straighter and watched Chester sit in the chair across from him, his expression a mask of calmness betrayed by the turmoil in his eyes. “Listen, Chester, I wanted to talk to you.” Brad exhaled slowly, finding the words that had been tumbling through his head hard to say aloud.

“Yeah, I think we need to talk,” Chester agreed. “I’m glad you came. Mike’s been worried about you since the meeting. Dave said you weren’t returning calls and he hadn’t seen you, and Mike… you know how he worries. He thought you might have been serious about leaving the band. I tried to talk him down by reminding him that you said that you’d do that only if I fucked this all up and-”

Brad held up a hand, stopping Chester’s ramblings. “I should never have said that. It was a shitty, low class thing to do.” He took in a shaky breath, and continued. “I wanted to tell you that I’m sorry. I really am, Chester. I was being an ass and you don’t deserve that. I was unfair to you and in the process I hurt Mike, and I had no right to bring up our past. I had no right to attack your relationships or your loyalty. I don’t know if I can explain myself well enough for you to understand what I’ve been feeling these past months.” He stopped and looked down at his hands, and they were shaky as well. Squeezing them into tight fists, he kept talking, the words pouring out fast as though he was afraid if they didn’t, he’d never get them out. “You know that Mike and I… were kind of a thing way back. Really far back. I don’t know if he’s told you anything about us since the meeting, but I thought maybe you could hear my perspective.”

With an impassive look, Chester said, “we’ve talked about it some,” unwilling to show all his cards. He was going to force Brad to do the talking.

“Okay. Okay.” Brad twisted his fingers together nervously. “Okay. I’m not going to get into details. I’ll just say, we never had sex, so if you were thinking about that, don’t. We were best friends, Chester, you know that. I was convinced that what we’d been doing wasn’t because we were in love, or should be together, it was just… experimentation. When Mike wanted more I freaked out and ended it immediately. I couldn’t get past my upbringing. My parents would have never accepted another man as my partner. I spent weeks convincing Mike of the same. That he wanted a traditional life with a wife and kids. I did that to him, I made him feel bad about who he was, and he met Anna, and… you know the rest.”

Chester nodded along, asking, “I don’t get it. Do you… feel guilty about pushing Mike into the life he’s had because you think it was wrong? Or because you’re still in love with him?”

The twisting of Brad’s fingers escalated to squeezing his hands together so hard his knuckles were white. “I’m not still in love with him, Chester... but I will admit to still being in love with him when you came along. I didn’t do a good job of concealing how I felt when you first joined the band. I was insanely jealous of you at the time. Not only were you incredibly talented, you and Mike got on so well. It was like your voices were made for each other. All of a sudden, I was just the guitarist. No more back up vocals for me, that was Mike’s job for you. He could rap and do back up, so he didn’t need me. And it was painfully obvious, as someone who knew Mike’s sexual leanings, to see that he had fallen for you hard. He was absolutely smitten with you. I went from being his best friend, and the person he’d been pining over, to nothing. Practically overnight.”

It was a huge admission, that he’d been in love with Mike when Chester had first met them, and possibly for quite some time after. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. Chester was absolutely certain that Mike’s feelings for Brad did not extend beyond brotherhood. But he needed to know if he’d be dealing with Brad’s volatile emotions for the rest of his life, because there was no way Linkin Park was going to survive if Brad still harbored feelings for his lover. Chester leveled a look at Brad, who seemed to wither under the stare. “So, what exactly are your feelings toward Mike? I need to know, Brad, if this is going to continue to be a problem. Because I meant it when I said, I choose Mike over Linkin Park. Every time.” 

Brad released the grip he had on his own hands and swiped one over his eyes, looking at Chester tiredly, silently.

“Which way are we going with this?” Chester prompted again, pushing for an answer. “Do you still hate my guts for being who I was twenty years ago? An addict? An alcoholic? Do you still think I’m going to leave Mike at the first new piece of ass that comes along? Did it ever occur to you that maybe Elka, Sam, Talinda… maybe they didn’t work out because I was denying who _I_ was all along? Maybe I was an addict and an alcoholic because of my childhood issues, because coming to terms with liking men was just too painful? Thinking maybe, _maybe_ if I hadn’t been molested that I’d like women instead? Did you ever think I might be blaming myself for all of that mess, that I thought I’d encouraged him to rape me because I _liked_ it?” 

Brad opened his mouth to say something but Chester kept speaking. “I know, you’re thinking, ‘what about all the kids you’ve dragged into this mess’, if you knew you were gay why did you keep having children?” Chester looked Brad straight in the eyes and said, “same reason you have three kids, Brad. Same fuckin’ reason.” Chester was breathing heavily, his own admission painful. “I wanted to be ‘normal.’” He snorted, a heavy sound of disgust at himself. “The _only_ thing that keeps me grounded is Mike. I gave up numbing the pain with substances because he cared about me. He helped keep those pains at bay. He still does. I _never_ wake up wishing I’d died in my sleep, wishing someone would just put me out of my misery, wishing I could take a hit to numb the feelings, or wishing I had the strength to end it all and then hating myself for wanting to. All of those cravings, that all ended with Mike. And now that I have him, there’s not one fucking chance I’m letting him go. What we have, Brad, it’s beyond sex, it transcends everything. So I need to know- can you accept us for not staying on the path you’ve chosen for yourself, or is this the end of the band?”

Brad dropped his head and stared at his hands again. There was a long silence before he spoke, his voice small, tinny, embarrassed. “My issues are my own, Chester. I do accept you guys. I’m proud of you both for being brave enough to go for what you truly want.” He lifted his head and looked straight at Chester. “I’m with you one hundred percent. I won’t be in the way. I won’t let you down. I’m here for you both. You’re my brothers and I love you, Chester.”

With that, Chester finally broke, an ugly cry escaping his throat ahead of scalding tears. Brad did the only thing a true brother could do… he gathered Chester into his arms, soothing his back with open hands as the vocalist released decades of fear, shame, and frustration in huge, quaking sobs... all of the demons washing away, relief flowing into their place, as Brad held him together, mending their friendship and his own peace of mind at the same time. 

 

*****

It felt strange to be standing on his own doorstep, knocking on the door of the house he’d lived in for ten years, waiting to be invited inside, but that was where Mike found himself at noon on a Saturday… a Saturday that was exactly six months after he had been gifted with the same relationship that had rendered him on this side of the door. _Six months. It’s been six months since we became physical, since we took that big step in our relationship… how could it be so long already, and yet so short in comparison to how long we’ve known each other? I don’t think he’s realized it’s six months today. I should do something special toni-_

“Hey, come on in,” Anna interrupted his train of thought as she opened the door for him, stepping away toward the kitchen. “Want something to drink?”

Mike closed the door behind him and glanced around, the familiarity slamming into him immediately and knocking him breathless. This was his home, and he truly didn’t realize how much he’d missed it until he was standing in his foyer again, the dark hardwood floors, the cream walls, the artwork he’d carefully chosen… the basket of children’s shoes next to the door. He slipped off his own shoes and left them by the door without a thought, answering, “what are you offering?” and following Anna into the kitchen.

“Coffee? Tea? I can make either. Unless you need something stronger.” Anna turned and looked at him, her eyebrows raised in question.

“How about coffee? Coffee is good any time of day,” he decided, taking a seat on his favorite bar stool and looking at Anna as she moved around the kitchen. The silence was awkward between them, and Mike shifted uncomfortably, tracing a pattern in the granite countertop with his finger. _I wish she’d just spill it, whatever it is…_

“I guess you’re anxious to know why I wanted to talk to you,” Anna said as she poured water over the freshly ground coffee. The savory coffee aroma filled the space between them. She looked up, and Mike nodded. “Well… I’ve been thinking about some of the stuff we’ve agreed to, and thinking that I might want to change something significant. Of course, only if we can agree on it.” 

Mike felt the nervous energy in his stomach, a queasiness he hadn’t felt being around Anna for a while. “Okay. Well, just tell me what it is… no use dragging it out. Either we’ll agree or we won’t.”

Anna looked at him for a moment, then plunged in. “I don’t want to stay in this house. I want to move.”

“Wait… what?” Mike was stunned. It wasn’t what he was expecting at all. _Move? Why? I’m giving her this house. Is she going to expect me to buy her a new one? Where does she want to go?_ Mike’s head was spinning with questions.

“I’ve been looking at houses… and I want to move. I want to start fresh.” She slid a mug across the counter and Mike reached for it without looking, wrapping his hands around the warmth but not taking a sip.

“I don’t know what to say. Do you think that’s the best thing for the kids? Anna, that’s a lot of change all at once. Maybe… maybe you should wait a while and sell it later in the summer. I hear that’s the best time to sell for the best price. It would give them more time to get used to everything.” There was no way he was going to tell her that he and Chester were going to be married by the end of the summer now. That information was going to have to wait.

It was Anna’s turn to look stunned. “You mean you wouldn’t want the house? I was thinking that it made sense really for you to keep it anyway, your studios are here, you wouldn’t have to redo those... and also when the kids are with you they would have familiar bedrooms and a familiar space.”

Though he hated to admit it, what Anna was saying made a lot of sense. He even found himself a little bit excited about the possibility of keeping both of his studios in tact. It had been a lot of time, money, and expense to get those exactly the way he wanted them. The thought of not having to start over was as appealing to Mike as the thought of starting over was to Anna. He contemplated her words for a moment, a question occuring to him in the silence. Her idea seemed too good to be true. There had to be something else. “Where are you wanting to go? How far away? I want to be near my kids, Anna.”

“For now? I just want to be closer to my dad. I’ve been looking on the other side of LA, by his place.”

“You’ve already been looking?” Mike asked, finally taking a sip from the coffee mug. “Find anything?”

Anna nodded, her face glowing a little. “Yeah, actually, I’ve found something I really love. It’s smaller but it’s in a great neighborhood, and I’ll still be able to take the kids to their school… the thing is, if I’m going to move on it, I need your permission. I can’t spend that kind of money or enter into a contract without your consent and without you signing away any rights to the property. Otherwise I’ll have to wait until March, and you know how real estate sells out here.”

Mike frowned. She was wanting to do this awfully quickly. It sounded as thought she’d already consulted her lawyer, too. “Anna, this is moving really fast… seems like you’ve already talked to your lawyer, too. Let me guess, you’ve already got paperwork for me to sign.”

She shook her head no. “I did call and talk to him, but I don’t have paperwork yet. But I can have it by tomorrow, if you agree. I wouldn’t have asked for you for all of this if I didn’t have a good feeling about it, Mike.” Her expression was almost pleading as she reached across the bar, placing her hand on his forearm. “Please, Mike, at least look at it. I think you’ll like it. The kids will like it. It will do me good to be away from here… the memories this house holds…” her voice broke then and she looked down at her hand on his arm. “I need a fresh start, Mike. I feel like you owe me at least that much. I don’t want to resent you, but I feel like if I stay here, I will.” 

Looking around their kitchen, Mike felt all of the layers of guilt being piled on his conscience, seeing their shared memories in his mind the way he imagined that Anna must be doing every day. _Do I want to stay here? With the memories? Is that my penance? Will Chester even want to stay here?_ He looked at Anna, at her deep brown eyes asking him for his help, his blessing, and he released the mug and covered her hand on his arm. “I want at least tonight to think, Anna, but… go ahead and show me. Show me the house.”

Her eyes brightened and she turned her hand over to squeeze his. “Oh, Mike, I think you’ll love it.” She started toward her office, saying over her shoulder, “I’ll get my laptop.”

Mike picked up his mug and took another long drink of his coffee. _As long as she doesn’t take my kids so far away I can’t see them any day that I want, I’ll sign whatever she needs. But when I asked her where she wanted to move, she said it would be close ‘for now.’ What does that mean? She can’t move the kids away from me, I won’t agree to that._ He waited for her to return to show him this new house, the place she wanted to make into a home for his children, and made a mental note to call his lawyer as soon as he left his house.


	50. Listening

Driving back to Rob’s from what used to be, and could potentially be again, his house, Mike’s mind worked through the past half hour with Anna. She was right, the house she had found did look perfect for her and the kids, and he was happy to help her however she needed in order to make it all work out. He wasn’t sure how Chester would react to the thought of them living together in the house he’d shared with Anna, though…. and lingering over everything was the question- _what did she mean by ‘for now’?_ There was a small part of him that was excited, but the anxiety over the unknown was overriding every other emotion at this point. Car keys in his hand, he reached for the back door with the other, and was immediately faced with Chester.

“How was it?” Chester asked as soon as Mike stepped through the door. He was sitting at the bar waiting for Mike, eating potato chips and thumbing through his phone, but he sat the phone down as soon as Mike entered, watching as he made his way briskly to the refrigerator. 

He stood there with both doors open, looking for something but clearly not knowing what it was. “Apparently Anna’s been thinking things over, and she’s suddenly wanting to change some stuff. I thought everything was agreed, we were just waiting until March for stuff to be final… and now she’s wanting something different and I don’t know how I feel about it at all.” He slammed the door to the refrigerator shut in frustration and plopped down on the bar stool next to Chester looking annoyed, his dark eyes troubled.

Chester reached over, covering Mike’s hand in his. “What’s she asking for? What can she possibly be asking for, she’s getting half of everything. And the house. What else is there except-” Chester stopped, looking at Mike in disbelief. “The kids? What’s she trying to do, Mike?”

“She wants to move,” Mike stated flatly. 

“But… where?” Chester asked, bewildered. 

Mike had never even considered before this morning that Anna might want to move and take the kids with her, and he felt panic bubbling up inside him. He reached a hand back to his neck, trying to rub out the sudden tension. “Just on the other side of LA… to be closer to her dad, now that her mom has passed. I think she just wants to get away from me.” Mike dropped his head and stared at the bar. “She’s already found a house she likes and she wants to move on it but I have to agree since we aren’t divorced yet, and I’m not sure what I should do. I mean, it’s my kids… she’s wanting to take my kids further away,” he mumbled with tears threatening his voice. “I know it’s not that far, but… I was thinking, what would stop her from taking them somewhere else later? What if she meets someone else and they want to move to, say, New York?” He looked at Chester, desperation in his eyes. “Ches, she can’t take my kids away. I can’t… I wouldn’t be able to stand that.”

Chester didn’t really know what to say, or what advice to offer. He had been the expert in this area since they both started down this path, but he was at a loss. “You’re projecting into scenarios that haven’t even presented themselves yet, Mike. I’m sure that you can talk to your lawyer and have some sort of geographical restrictions placed on her so that she can’t take the kids too far,” he tried, completely unsure of himself.

Mike shook his head. “I don’t know. This was just a heads up that she’s thinking about this, and that we may have to reach an agreement for the draft decree. I have no idea if I can do that or not. Besides, we’re gone so often and for so long, it seems wrong of me to place restrictions on her life when I get to go anywhere I want. I guess it just hit me today how little control I have over what she does with my kids. And that’s scary. I want to trust her, Ches, but it’s hard. I know I’ve hurt her. I don’t want her to try to use them to hurt me.”

Pulling Mike into a tight hug, Chester cited his oft-repeated phrase, “it will be okay. If you keep sitting here thinking of all the possibilities and what-ifs you’ll make yourself sick. Call your lawyer and see what he has to say about it.”

Mike nodded his head and then bit his lip, looking nervously at Chester, hesitant as he said, “there’s something else to that, Ches… and the the only good thing I have thought of so far about the entire conversation is… she actually offered that I should keep the house, not that we should sell it. And I was thinking, we’d have somewhere to live, if that’s what you wanted. We’d have my studios, we could redecorate… the kids would still have their rooms… if you wanted to, that is… I’d never want you to live there if it would make you uncomfortable.” 

Chester appeared to not even need to think it over, he blurted out, “that’s great, Mikey! Wow, that would be amazing if we didn’t have to just start totally over. I love your house.”

“You wouldn’t be bothered by… living in the same house I spent ten years of my marriage? Really?” Mike looked skeptical, but Chester had already bounced off of the barstool and was standing in front of him, arms spread open and gesturing wildly.

“We could knock out that wall between the master bedroom and the guest room and make a sitting area, wait, doesn’t that back up to the closets, too? You can make me another closet for our shoes, and get rid of all the carpet and have all dark wood and stone, and of _course_ fix the master bathroom up because I want you to have me every which way in the shower and I hate being cold so that requires more shower heads than what you currently have-”

“Whoa, slow down, Ches,” Mike laughed, holding his hands up as though he were trying to stop traffic. “You’re way ahead of me. I haven’t even agreed to any of this yet.”

“What’s there to think about? Call Boyd, find out how to keep her from moving out of state, and make it part of your agreement. I think you can do that. And then do what you need to do to get her moved. Easy.” Chester wasn’t slowing down, and Mike couldn’t help but laugh as he stumbled his way through speaking all the thoughts racing around in his head. 

“Okay, okay, I’ll call this afternoon.” Mike looked up at Chester’s bright smile, at the anticipation on his face. _I can’t believe he’s going to say yes. I really want to keep my studios but I want him to be okay with it all. I don’t want him to say yes just because he knows I want him to say yes._ “So, you’d really be alright with living there, Ches? I don’t want you to say yes just because you think that’s what I want. I’d be happy staying there but I’d also be happy starting over somewhere else, as long as it’s with you. Whatever you want, that’s what I want.”

Just as Chester was about to speak, Rob came in the back door, two grocery bags in hand. He was immediately assaulted by Chester’s exuberant exclamations. 

“Anna wants to move to the other side of LA and Mike’s getting the house back! Isn’t it great?” He was dancing now, arms above his head, his hips moving to a song only he could hear in his head. 

Rob sat the bags down on the bar and looked between Mike and Chester with surprise evident, even on his soft features. “Wow, really? I mean, Mike, that would be great, we’d still have the studio!” 

Chester’s continued enthusiasm had successfully worn away Mike’s apprehension. He realized that what Chester wanted was what he wanted, and he grinned at Rob, nodding happily, “I think it’s going to work out. Going to call my lawyer, make sure we do it all correctly, but yeah, I think it’s going to happen.” He looked over at Chester, who was still beaming with excitement. “Thanks, Ches. Wow… I can’t believe it.” 

“It’s going to be so strange when you guys move out. I’ve gotten used to you being here.” Rob’s soft voice was a little sad as he started to put vegetables away into the refrigerator. “I even bought you bacon, Shinoda.”

It seemed that Mike’s grin stretched even bigger. “It’s not like we’re moving out today. No worries about whether or not that bacon will get eaten.” Suddenly he remembered that Chester was supposed to have talked to Brad as well and he turned to him quickly, exclaiming, “Ches! Did you and Brad talk?!”

Mike watched the shadow cross Chester’s face as Rob raised an eyebrow and said, “damn, I go to get groceries and all this happens? What did you guys talk about?”

Chester had composed his face in to a small smile, a less enthusiastic version of himself just moments earlier. “He came over to apologize… so… things are fine. We’re all going to be fine.” 

He looked at Mike and smiled, but the smile didn’t reach his eyes, which Mike noticed immediately. _It doesn’t look like it’s going to be fine, but it doesn’t look like he wants to talk about it with Rob, so I’ll have to ask later. I hope they worked it out for real._

Rob clapped a hand on Chester’s shoulder blade and said, “that’s a relief. I’m glad you guys worked it out. I was worried about Brad.”

Chester shrugged. “He’ll be okay. I think he was more embarrassed than anything else.” Mike was still looking at Chester, trying to decipher the sudden change in the vocalist’s mood. Before he could say anything about it, Chester’s expression lifted again and he reached for Mike, standing between his legs and sliding his arms around Mike’s neck. “You know it’s been six months today? Six months since we…” his voice faded off and he glanced quickly at Rob before he placed his lips on Mike’s ear and breathed out, “since you first made love to me?” He giggled low in his throat and went on breathlessly, “God, I sound like such a girl when I say it like that.”

Turning his face toward Chester, Mike caught his lips for a quick kiss while Rob was in the pantry putting away the last of the groceries. “I was going to tell _you_ that,” he pouted, looking out for Rob before stealing another kiss. “I can’t believe you remembered, Ches.”

“Remembered what?” Rob asked, coming out of the pantry with his reusable grocery bag folded, placing it inside the other bag before returning them both to their spot in the cabinet. 

A mild blush crept across Mike’s cheeks. “It’s sort of an… anniversary…”

Holding up a hand, Rob said, “say no more. No details necessary.” His eye sparkled as he looked at he couple and teased, “do I need to get earplugs for tonight?”

“Jesus, Bourdie, we’re not animals,” Chester grumbled indignantly, threading his fingers through the back of Mike’s hair, then feathering his fingertips down Mike’s neck, watching his eyes grow heavy. 

That comment caused Rob to burst into laughter. “Sure, yeah, okay you guys. It’s not like I don’t hear you every single night. You two are like teenagers.”

“You _listen_ to us?” Mike asked incredulously, still heavy-lidded, his breath already coming shallow and fast as Chester’s hands stroked over the back of his head and neck, skillfully grazing one of Mike’s major erogenous zones as they looked into each other’s eyes. _It’s like I’m drunk. Drunk on Chester’s eyes. Maybe he’ll wear some eyeliner for me tonight. Oh, I need to stop thinking like that right now. Think about something else. Like Rob listening to us… nope, that’s not going to make this hard on go away. Fuck, that’s weird as fuck._ He licked his bottom lip with the tip of his tongue and Chester’s eyes followed the movement, looking as though he could attack Mike right there on the barstool in front of their band mate.

“I don’t intend to listen,” Rob defended, shaking his head side to side, causing his long hair to flop messily over his glasses. “I have a white noise machine, it’s been getting a lot of use since you’ve been here.” 

“I bet you like it, Bourdie,” Chester said sultrily, his eyes not leaving Mike’s. “We know you’re curious.”

It was Rob’s turn to blush and he gawked at the pair, watching Chester undress Mike with his eyes right in his kitchen. “No more than… anyone else is… about you two…” he managed with difficulty, trying desperately to sound unaffected.

“You’re as bad as Joe,” Chester commented, leaning in to smash his lips against Mike’s, a low groan escaping from the emcee as Chester’s hands pulled his hair. It was a deeply passionate kiss, an intense kiss, and Mike felt that there was something else in that kiss other than Chester’s love for him and his desire to tease their drummer. _I need to find out what happened between him and Brad. Something happened, there’s something he’s upset about, he’s never acted like this around Rob before._ He wanted to gather Chester into his arms right then and carry him off to the bedroom for the rest of the day but now that he knew Rob had been able to hear them, he was less enthusiastic about having Chester with Rob home. Just as he was about to break the kiss, Chester released him and stepped back, his lips pink and swollen, his eyes dark with desire. The look he gave Mike stirred deep inside his soul as he said, “sorry, Bourdie, I’m not sharing.”

“I… uhhhh… didn’t…. ummmm… ask you… ahhh… to,” Rob managed to get out breathlessly between sighs. With cheeks still pink, he ran a hand through his hair and mumbled, “I’ll be up in the studio if you guys need anything.” He practically ran up the stairs and within minutes Mike and Chester could hear him on the drums.

“He’s banging the shit out of those drums,” Mike commented, swatting a hand against Chester’s ass, spanking him lightly. “You’re so bad.”

“Don’t tell me it didn’t turn you on a little, too,” Chester said with a naughty grin. “I felt it in your kiss. You were getting off on him watching us.” He stopped and looked at Mike with his head tilted to the side. “Have you ever thought about it?” he asked seriously.

“About what? About the guys watching us? Or anyone watching us?” Mike was suddenly breathless again, waiting for Chester to answer.

“Anyone,” he breathed, close to Mike’s face again, “but especially one of the guys. Or all the guys.”

Mike shifted on the barstool, feeling his erection trapped against his jeans uncomfortably. _Do I admit I’ve thought about this or not? I definitely don’t want to actually do it, but it is kind of hot to think about it. Ugh. I’m just going to tell him._ “I guess I have, Ches. I mean, we’re being watched all the time, we’re on stage, we’re in tons of pictures together… we’re always in a spotlight of some sort. It _is_ a little thrilling to imagine it, you naked and me having my way with you, and everyone watching us the way they watch us sing… but I’d never want to actually _do_ that.” 

Chester pressed his palm to Mike’s crotch and watched as Mike’s eyes squeezed shut in pleasured pain. “Yeah, I’ve thought about it, too. You know the guys have talked about it, too. I wouldn’t put it past them at all.” He grinned as another thought occurred to him. “Can you imagine how much money we’d make off a sex tape?”

“No, Chester, Jesus,” Mike reacted, and Chester giggled as he applied pressure to Mike’s growing arousal, tracing his fingers across the worn denim over his hard dick, straining against the fly of his jeans. “We’re _not_ making a sex tape.”

Pouting, Chester withdrew his hand, causing Mike to whimper. “Not even if it was just for ourselves?” His voice dropped to the lowest whisper Mike had ever heard. “I want to watch you fuck me,” he husked, watching Mike’s reaction.

“As good as that sounds, Ches… you have to know how risky that is... I mean, if we forgot to delete it, if it got into the wrong hands… there’s no way we can risk that.” Mike grabbed his hand and placed back on him, pushing Chester’s hand into him as he pushed his hips forward, gasping, “fuck, Chester, it’s true. We’re as bad as two teenagers. I want you all the time. I can’t believe we haven’t been doing this all along. What the fuck was wrong with us?” He closed his eyes and drew in a ragged breath.

“Obligation. A desire to be what’s expected of us… that’s what I tried to explain to Brad this afternoon anyway. I’ve wanted you from the beginning, Mike, and he says you’ve wanted me from the beginning, and it hurts to think we wasted so much time apart.”

“Is that all it was, then? Did you two really reach an understanding?” Chester nodded, and Mike felt the relief wash over him. “Good. We all needed that. And just so you know, the time we spent without having each other, it wasn’t a waste.” Mike opened his eyes and looked at Chester. “We’re where we’re supposed to be now. And we have so many years ahead of us, so many good years left. I’m going to spend the rest of my life with you. I can’t wait. I can’t wait to get out of here so I can carry you upstairs in the middle of the afternoon and ravish you whenever I want.” He glanced at the ceiling, the pounding of Rob’s drumset still hitting their ears. “I swear, Chester, you’re going to have to be quiet tonight.”

With a cheeky grin, Chester slid his hands under Mike’s ass and yanked him forward, off the barstool, so he could press their bodies flush against each other. “If you’re going to force me to be quiet I’m going to keep you in a constant state of arousal for the rest of the day so you can make it quick.”

Pulling Chester into him, Mike dropped his head into Chester’s neck and sighed, “the only way to make it faster is if you’ll put some eyeliner on for me. And I don’t mean like we’re going out, the subtle kind… I mean like Billie Joe Armstrong eyeliner. I want to fucking see it. And by the time I’m done with you, I want it to be smeared all under your eyes and I want you to look completely fucked out… because of me.”

“Oh, God, it’s a promise,” Chester said, clinging to Mike’s waist as he reached to pull Mike’s head back by his hair, kissing him deeply again. The drumming overhead stopped and they broke apart, panting, a silent promise to continue later.

**********

It was well past midnight when Chester awoke, his limbs heavy, feeling completely sated after the passionate celebration of the first six months of his physical relationship with Mike. Disentangling himself from Mike’s arms to slide from the bed, he padded softly to the bathroom, catching a glimpse of his face in the nightlight. His eyes were still heavily ringed in black eyeliner, smudged in a way he knew Mike would find appealing in the morning. The memory of Mike holding one hand over his mouth as he came into the other brought a chill down his spine and a twist of longing to his stomach, and he was tempted to wake Mike for another encounter when he stepped back into the bedroom.

It was brighter than usual in their room, and on the way back to bed he detoured toward the window, moving the sheer curtain aside and looking outside. The moon was full and high in the sky, the brightness streaming into the bedroom and across the bed, bathing Mike in a pale spotlight. He smiled as he stood there, looking appreciatively at Mike, thinking about how beautiful he was in his sleep, the full curve of his bottom lip, dark lashes against his cheek, black hair contrasting the white pillowcase. The duvet had been tugged down at some point and Mike’s bare chest was slowly rising and falling in deep, peaceful breaths. They were close, so close now, to being free in every aspect of the word-- free of their marriages, free of lies, free from hiding. Chester could taste the freedom on his tongue as he sucked in a deep breath, gazing at Mike, who was still unaware. 

He climbed back into bed and under the sheets, cuddling close to Mike, throwing an arm over his lover’s chest after he pulled the duvet over them both.

“Mmmm, Ches,” Mike breathed deeply, turning on his side and nuzzling his face next to Chester’s, their foreheads touching.

Chester petted his hand along Mike’s arm gently, just to let the emcee know he was near, not trying to awaken him. “I love you, Mikey,” he mouthed inaudibly, and he felt Mike’s arm pull their bodies closer together, creating a warm pocket of comfort between the cold sheets. He swallowed as he felt Mike’s body against him, the small, involuntary movements of his hips against Chester’s welcome despite the early morning hour. Smiling sleepily, he turned in Mike’s arms, pressing his back against Mike’s chest and tucking an arm up under the pillow. He had almost drifted back to sleep when he heard Mike whisper, “love you,” and with a content sigh, he melted into weightlessness, feeling Mike make one last small thrust against his ass before becoming still, his breath close to Chester’s ear.


	51. Watching

Rob was already on his second cup of coffee when Dave slid into the booth across from him. Cocking his eyebrow at his watch, Rob asked why Dave was late without uttering a word.

“Sorry, I know. The girls woke up right as I was trying to leave out and everyone needed kisses and hugs and started acting like I was leaving off on tour… tears and all.” Dave shook his head with a smile. “I promised to bring home donuts so that seemed to work.”

“Ah, yes, bribery. I hear that’s a thing when you have kids,” Rob teased.

“If you only knew, Bourdie, sometimes it’s the only way to get things done.” Glancing at the menu, Dave set it aside and rolled his neck around, trying to get the kinks out. “Slept funny,” he explained. “Man, it sucks getting old.”

After they ordered breakfast and Dave had his coffee, both men relaxed in pleasant silence for a few moments before Rob said, “Mike came in yesterday saying Anna wanted to move to the other side of LA. Seems like he’s getting the house back.”

Dave looked pleased. “That means we’ll get the studio back, that’s great. How’s Chester feeling about that?” He took a sip of his coffee and waited.

“Chester seemed to think it was a great idea. It was Mike that was freaking out about it. I can imagine it might be hard to go back to that house, but you know Chester. He’s already mentally knocking out walls and remodeling. By the time he gets done with it, Mike won’t even recognize it as his anymore.”

They laughed together, imagining Chester in a hard hat leading the demolition of Mike’s house with a sledgehammer, and managing to hurt himself in the process. “We need to keep him out of there while they’re demoing or we’ll never make it on tour this summer,” Dave groaned, and Rob nodded in agreement. “So when are they moving out?”

“I’m not sure yet. Mike’s got to sign some stuff for Anna and then get her moved, and I’m sure they’ll want to stay through the remodel so it will go faster… I’m figuring they won’t be out until after the divorces in March. But that’s okay… I think I might actually miss them when they go.” Rob looked down at the mug in his hand, away from Dave’s sympathetic gaze. “Maybe I’ll get a dog or something.”

“Bourdie, you need a woman, that’s what you need.” Dave’s wise eyes looked at his friend, and he knew that it wouldn’t be easy to find one up to Rob’s standards. Rob had always been quiet, a little bit of a loner, and his heart had never really recovered from the break up with Vanessa. Trying to set him up never worked out, and the women he met never seemed to work out either. Dave wasn’t even sure of the last time the drummer had been out on a date. He’d asked Linsey what she thought about it all, and she agreed that Rob was an attractive man, and a rich one at that, a drummer in a rock band… so clearly Rob was just picky as fuck, since there was no reason either of them could identify as to why he was still single.

Rob shrugged. “Probably. Too bad all the women I meet are interested in such shallow existences and expect me to go along with that. I don’t want a trophy wife. I don’t want a woman that doesn’t have any goals, any ambition. I want what you, Joe, and Brad have with your wives… and what Mike and Chester have with each other. And the older I get the less likely that seems.” 

The waitress dropped off their breakfasts, disappearing quickly, and Dave didn’t answer immediately so he could take a bite of his omelette. With a satisfied smile, he resumed their conversation. “Mike and Chester still driving you nuts?” He didn’t miss the blush that crept across Rob’s cheeks. “Ah, they’ve been making out in front of you again? It’s so weird to see them kiss each other, right?”

Clearing his throat, Rob suddenly needed a sip of water. He glanced at Dave and adjusted his glasses. “It’s not the kissing that bothers me, exactly. It’s the way they… are at night. I mean… Chester’s just loud.” 

Dave was grinning at Rob’s uncomfortable expression, and he teased, “you were the one that offered for them to stay with you.”

Rob waved his hand in the air. “I know, I know. Trust me, you don’t want them around your kids.” He smiled vaguely. “I’m glad they’re happy, and I’ll miss them when they go, but… it’s been hard having all that going on in my own house when I’m not getting any.”

“That _does_ suck,” Dave agreed, forking another bite of omelette into his mouth. “It will be over soon. A couple of months. And then we’ll be back out on the road.”

“Yeah… and you guys will have to deal with it too,” Rob said, smiling deviously at Dave. “You guys owe me. I’m not sharing a wall with them for the entire summer. I’ve done my time.”

“Deal,” Dave agreed, and they continued eating in companionable silence. After breakfast they continued talking a little bit about the summer tour, things at Dave’s house, how Brad was doing, and how Joe and Heidi had taken off on a random two week trip to Korea. After his third cup of coffee, Dave pushed back his chair, reaching for his phone. “I better go get the girls their donuts. If I stay gone much longer it will be anarchy.”

Rob nodded, putting on his jacket. “I’m glad we didn’t miss our breakfast. This is one of my favorite traditions.”

“Mine too,” Dave agreed. “If you need to get away, you know you can always come over.”

“I know.” Rob’s voice was soft, and his eyes were thankful. They shared a quick hug and then Rob was back in his car, headed for home before nine o’clock. He briefly considered calling Brad and stopping by the band’s studio to work on some tracks for a while, but he hadn’t planned far enough ahead and Brad would probably say no. Brad was a stickler for procedure, and the mere fact that Rob had failed to arrange a meeting the day before would almost certainly be met with disapproval. 

When he stepped back into his house that morning before nine o’clock, it was still, so still that he almost thought Mike and Chester had gone out somewhere. As he set his keys and wallet on the counter though, he noticed two abandoned coffee cups on the counter by the sink, and his sensitive ears picked up the muffled sounds from upstairs. He _almost_ picked his stuff up again so he could leave without them knowing he’d ever been there, leaving his bandmates in the privacy they thought they had. With his hand hovering over his wallet, he stood undecided, Chester’s words flowing through his brain languidly, like a slow moving river. 

_I bet you like it Bourdie… we know you’re curious..._

Rob would have been lying if he’d said he wasn’t curious about their sex life. He himself found it hard to go out and date, where nothing was simple and easy, where women his age that he met were often jaded and insecure or groupies, where every woman he met eventually found out he was in Linkin Park if they didn’t already know, and he envied the relationships his bandmates had with their wives, so many of them met before the band was a big deal. Anna, Elisa, Linsey, they had all been there from the beginning, and Talinda almost as long, and even though Heidi was their newest addition… they were all loyal, down to Earth, supportive women. Even though he was supportive of Mike and Chester, he really felt for Anna, had admired her quietly since Mike had brought her into their lives, and there were days he wished that he had met her first. Frowning, he shook his head, erasing his thoughts of sweet, suffering, beautiful Anna, and looked at the stairs. 

He could leave, and not think about what was going on upstairs, or he could see how quietly he could climb upstairs and creep into his office, the room that shared a wall with the guest room Mike and Chester had taken over, and sit on the couch as he had done too many shameful times to listen to what was happening behind their closed door. The first time had been accidental, a night weeks after they’d moved in, when he was paying bills from his desktop computer and suddenly could hear Chester’s voice as clear as if he were in the same room with him. It startled Rob, and his cheeks had flushed when he realized what he was hearing. He was even more embarrassed to realize that Chester’s moans and Mike’s low encouragements were turning him on. He’d never thought of either of his bandmates in that way, but hearing them together was like hearing them on stage; magical, beautiful, and so fucking normal that Rob couldn’t make himself go back to his bedroom and turn on the white noise machine. That machine had been his best friend when they first moved in, and Rob had preemptively set it for ocean sounds every night out of fear he might overhear any sounds from their room. That first night he thought drowning them out was a smart idea, but now he could only think about what he’d been missing.

Decision made, Rob crept up the stairs and started down the hall, when he stopped abruptly. Their door was open a crack. Their door was never open at all, and Rob almost turned around and went back downstairs. His friends really thought they were alone, and he battled with himself to do the right thing, almost willing himself away from the room when he heard Chester’s voice sing out “oooooooohhhhh… yyyeessss... aaaaahhhhh, that’s so gooooooood…”

Rob’s feet seemed to creep of their own volition closer to the crack in the door. He couldn’t even think of a reason _not_ to look in the crack. It was more than a crack, he realized as he drew nearer. There was at least three inches of space to peer into the room, the result of the door being hastily nudged shut but without enough force to close it all the way, and under the assumption that they were alone, neither Mike nor Chester had made it a priority to shut the door completely. Rob pushed his glasses up further to get a good look as he brought his face as close as he dared to the space.

The bed was on the wall perpendicular to the door, affording him a side view of what was happening underneath the duvet his bandmates had bought to replace the one he previously had on that bed. The sheets and the duvet were pooled around Mike’s thighs and he was between Chester’s legs, his mouth enthusiastically wrapped around Chester’s dick, Chester’s hands buried in Mike’s hair, his head thrown back in ecstacy. 

Rob’s eyes lingered on Chester’s face for moments, the dark smudges of black eyeliner all around, and he grimaced as he felt a stirring in his groin. Looking at Chester was turning him on, and even though it felt wrong and he knew he didn’t want Chester _that way_ he couldn’t back away from the door. Holding his breath, his eyes skimmed down Chester’s body, sweaty and writhing on the bed, his flamed forearms that Rob had always appreciated, landing on the sight of Chester threading his fingers through Mike’s hair, pulling on it as Mike expertly provided what appeared to be the best blow job since the creation of time. Rob’s mouth dropped open slightly as he watched Chester’s hips buck up into Mike’s mouth, one of Mike’s hands stroking across Chester’s flat stomach, the other slick with lube and teasing around his puckered entrance. He was holding his breath as he watched Mike slide one finger inside Chester slowly, and listened to Chester’s pleased purr of arousal, then the continuous chant of “Mike, Mike, more, please… ahhhhh… Mikey…” 

Now he knew what they were doing when Chester was repeating Mike’s name over and over at night. The visual to go along with the cries he’d heard was overwhelming. He was uncomfortably hard after watching his bandmates, the sight of Mike skillfully touching Chester, dominating the vocalist the way he had been known to do in the studio almost too much for Rob.

He backed away from the crack in the door for a moment, trying to catch his breath as quietly as possible, his head spinning. He’d never had a blow job and been penetrated at the same time, he had no point of reference for what that would feel like. He couldn’t imagine getting a woman to do that to him, much less how to approach the topic with one. Rob bit his lip, in a clear dilemma now-- he wanted to see what was going to happen but his own erection was begging for attention, and he knew he would be crossing a huge line if he started to get himself off while watching his friends. Besides, what if he were to get caught? It would be harder to lie and say that he had only just walked up to the door by accident if his hand was in his pants. He took another deep breath and stepped back to the door to see Mike, two fingers deep now, sitting back on his heels, stroking Chester’s dick slick with saliva, as Chester twisted his hands into fists, pulling on the sheets in the absence of Mike’s hair. They were completely enamoured of each other, wrapped up in their own world of pleasure, oblivious to everything else around them.

“Mmm, Ches, you’re so tight. I can’t believe how tight you still are…” Mike’s low murmur reached Rob’s ears, in a tone he’d never heard from the emcee, sultry, almost demanding. “I can’t believe you still want more after last night.”

“Mike, Mike, Mike, stop teasing… ahhhhhh, Mikey… fuck me, fuck me please…” Chester’s voice was a stark contrast to Mike’s, higher, more desperate, keening, as Mike released his grip and withdrew his fingers at the same time. Rob watched as Mike kissed up Chester’s pale white thigh, and ran his tongue up Chester’s dick, listened as Chester breathed out “fuck me, please,” repeatedly while Mike kissed across his stomach, bit down on both nipples and sank his body between Chester’s legs. He watched as Mike captured Chester’s writhing hands and pulled the flames above his head, mesmerized as Mike’s hips ground down into Chester’s body, pinning him to the bed as he nibbled and kissed the expanse of Chester’s throat. Rob was biting down so hard on his lip he was certain there would be blood soon, watching as Mike took Chester’s lips ferociously, listened to the low moans of arousal from the emcee and the whimpers and coos from the vocalist, sounds he was accustomed to hearing through the wall while his imagination filled in the blanks. Right now his imagination was rendered unnecessary with the pair on the bed in front of him, and Rob couldn’t take his eyes away, even as naughty as he felt watching them. Just as Mike reached to place himself inside Chester’s body, Rob stepped away from the door, his heart pounding, his breathing fast and shallow.

He pressed a hand to his face and felt the deep red flush there, his cheeks hot, and he heard Chester cry out as Mike took him, and Rob squeezed his eyes shut, trying to convince himself to walk away from the door. At least a few minutes passed as he stood out of sight, stroking his length through his jeans, suppressing any sounds he might have made, wondering if he would be able to manage one last glance- for the education of it, he told himself. He’d seen so much, he might as well see the actual act in progress, and then it would be out of his system. 

Taking another deep breath, Rob held it in as he carefully looked through the crack in the door one last time. Watching, watching Chester’s heels, digging into MIke’s back; Mike smoothly gliding in and out of Chester; Mike murmuring low voiced encouragements; Chester gasping and crying out as he came; Mike’s arms trembling as his own release neared. Rob stealthily slid away from the door one last time, turning down the hallway with a singular purpose in mind. 

Moving quietly to his own bedroom, he listened as Mike’s orgasm overtook him, and Rob closed his door, stepped into his bathroom, then leaned his head buried in his forearm against the wall, more aroused than he could ever remember being, jerking himself off with the image of Mike fucking Chester burned on the inside of his eyelids.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ***this chapter has an alternate ending, by request. Check it out if you wish Rob had been caught. It's titled "Bourdingnoda" and does NOT fit into this story so I wrote it as a standalone.


	52. Kissing

The sound of Mike’s keys hitting the kitchen countertop roused Chester from the nap he’d accidentally fallen into waiting for his lover to come home. Chester had spent the morning with Draven, and though he’d had a wonderful time with his son, picking him up and dropping him off at Sam’s had been draining, as usual. She had a lot of opinions on the subject of him and Mike, opinions that he didn’t give a single fuck about, but after all these years she still knew how to get under his skin. The entire way home he’d worked through relaxation breathing techniques until he’d purged her toxicity from his mind, though the entire ordeal left him exhausted.

When he wandered back to Rob’s house after lunch, he’d found Rob doing laundry and reading in the den, where Chester eventually joined him. The last thing he remembered was telling Rob that he and Mike planned to go pick out new flooring and bathroom tile for the renovations they were about to do to Mike’s house-- now he was waking up to Mike hovering over him, his warm brown eyes crinkled into an alluring smile as he leaned in for a kiss, hands wandering over Chester’s arms.

“Easy, Shinoda, I think you’re making Bourdie jealous.” Chester said sleepily, gently swatting at Mike’s hands back and pulling away from what was supposed to be a quick welcome home kiss, smiling at the emcee to take the sting out of his words as he sat up. 

Mike didn’t even miss a beat, “I’ve got the meeting with the construction guy Dave recommended set up for next Saturday, day after Anna is finished moving out,” he said as he lifted Chester’s legs and slid underneath, plopping down on the sofa next to Chester and looking over at Rob. “Won’t be long until we’re out of your hair, Bourdie.”

It had been two weeks since the drummer had secretly watched his friends having sex in his house and the passage of time had not made what he’d witnessed any easier on Rob’s memory. Even now, he was remembering that morning, the sound of the shower coming on down the hallway, bringing him out of his spent post-orgasmic daze, rushing to clean up as quietly as he could and get out of the house before Mike and Chester discovered he’d been there. As he passed by their bedroom he’d known they were in the shower together, and his stomach had twisted a little bit at the imagined vision that had assaulted his mind- Chester and Mike slippery and wet in the shower, hands all over, kissing each other- before he shook his head and grimaced. It had been hard to get the image of them having sex out of his mind, especially since they were prone to kissing at any time of the day and in any location, and Rob really couldn’t understand why it all affected him so much. He felt guilty for watching, guilty for liking it, and guilty for keeping it a secret. It had been a long two weeks.

“It’s really been no problem,” Rob said softly, looking back down at the book in his hands. 

Mike and Chester exchanged a glance before Mike said, “we know we’re a pain in the ass, you don’t have to pretend otherwise. Six months is a long time to put up with houseguests. We owe you big.” Mike inched his hand toward Chester’s thigh, but the vocalist caught it and held it down next to his side. He glanced down to see that Chester had painted his fingernails black while he’d been gone. It made his already small, slender hands look even more delicate.

“Yeah, you’ve been amazing, man,” Chester added. “You’ve seriously made this so much easier on us and done so much, letting us take over your life and bring the kids here and everything. You’re just awesome.” 

Rob nodded absently. “You don’t owe me anything. I’m happy I could help.” He peered up over his glasses, asking, “how long do you think the renovations will take?”

Chester enthusiastically jumped right in, the mastermind of the renovations. “We’re not planning much. New floors, knocking down that wall next to the bedroom, and redoing the bathroom… once they get the floors down we’ll be good with moving in, there’s other bathrooms we can use while they’re finishing ours.” He looked at Mike with happy anticipation all over his face. “Are we still going to go look at finishes this afternoon?”

“Yeah, that’s the plan. Can’t think of a better way to kick off an evening than standing in a home renovation store, arguing over tile samples like an old married couple.” Mike squeezed Chester’s hand and his eyes sparkled. They were both looking forward to making some selections for the house, the personal touches that would make it theirs together instead of Mike’s with Anna. Mike was especially anxious to make changes to his house. He still wasn’t one hundred percent certain that he would be able to make it his home again after living there with Anna for so long, but Chester’s ideas for change were appealing, and after all, he _really did_ want to keep his studios. 

“And we can follow it up with a cheeseburger!” Chester exclaimed, “It’s literally the perfect date night.”

Looking back down at his book, Rob made a face at that comment, which was not lost on Chester. “We seriously have to find you a woman, Bourdie. We need to take you clubbing or something.”

Mike snorted a laugh at Chester’s comment. “Clubbing? Seriously, Ches? When was the last time we went clubbing?”

“No clue. But we need to get you out of the house,” Chester said, pointing at Rob. “Don’t you think?”

The room was silent for a moment as Rob screwed up the courage to suggest, “sure. Once you guys are settled back at Mike’s, maybe the six of us can go out and celebrate. It’s been a while since we went out…”

“Okay, there’s no backing out, now! It’s on!” Chester wiggled his eyebrows in Rob’s direction and watched Rob smile faintly. It was enough of an agreement to satisfy Chester and then he was on to the next thing at hand. “I’m ready to go,” he announced, pulling on Mike’s hand and sitting up, his legs now dangling down to the floor. “You don’t want me to be hangry while we’re negotiating flooring.”

“Jesus, no, I don’t,” Mike agreed with mock fear on his face. “This is going to be enough of an adventure without you needing food too.” Standing up, he pulled Chester up next to him and wrapped his arms around the vocalist’s waist. “It’s hard enough to get you to focus when you’re _not_ hungry.” Rob blushed and looked back at his book as Mike kissed Chester again before glancing his way. “Sorry… I just have twenty years to make up for, you know?”

“Yeah, I get it,” Rob mumbled. “You guys have fun picking out cabinet pulls.”

“You know we will,” Chester replied, keeping his tone light, as he dragged Mike along behind him toward the door. “We’ll be back after dinner, so you won’t be forced to suffer through the smell of our burgers.” 

“Bring me back some fries,” Rob called after them as they left.

Not ten steps down the sidewalk to the car, Chester turned to Mike. “He’s been acting strange, don’t you think?” 

Mike pressed the remote button and opened the passenger door for Chester, lightly smacking him on the ass as he slid inside the car. “Yeah, a little. But like I said, it’s got to be tiring to have us in his space for this long. I’m sure he’s just ready for us to go, but you know Bourdie. He’s too polite to say so.” He shut the door and walked around the front of the car. Chester was already talking when he opened his door.

“-and then he’ll look away, like he’s embarrassed by us or something.” Chester was in full out fret mode, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth, his eyebrows furrowed.

“What? I missed the front part of that, Ches.” 

“I was saying that he seems uncomfortable when we kiss in front of him now, or even just touch each other… it’s just different. I don’t know. I guess you’re right, he just needs his space back. He’s always been supportive of us.” Chester reached over and squeezed Mike’s knee, then ran his black fingernails up Mike’s thigh. “Maybe he’s jealous,” he added, his voice silky. 

“You’re insane,” Mike teased, not even looking Chester’s way as he navigated the traffic and changed topics. “You already have an idea what you want in the house, don’t you?”

Chester proudly nodded. “Of course I do.”

Shaking his head, Mike said, “do I even stand a chance of negotiating with you?” 

“You won’t need to. You will absolutely love each and every choice I’ve made in my head the instant I show it to you. I have impeccable taste, as you know,” Chester decreed, flourishing his hands around the space in front of him.

Mike rolled his eyes. “We’ll see about that,” was all he was able to answer before Chester reached over and turned the radio up, singing along at top volume. 

Three songs later they were comparing different shades of hardwood flooring, agreeing that Chester’s first choice of dark, hand scraped, large planks was the obvious choice. The bathroom was a completely different story, Mike favoring glass tiles the color of sea glass and Chester leaning toward travertine. Eventually they moved enough samples around to land on a combination of both looks, travertine tiles for the shower with a glass mosaic inset that included some of the soft translucent green sea glass, and larger travertine tiles for the floor. Chester was ecstatic, having mostly gotten his way, dancing his victory dance in the cabinet pull aisle as he handed Mike an oil rubbed bronze cabinet pull, along with a matching drawer pull.

“These, these are perfect,” he exclaimed, dancing a circle around Mike’s back.

“Yeah, I like these,” Mike agreed, watching Chester with amusement. _He’s such a big kid. Who knew redecorating would make him this happy._ “You know we’re gonna be buying furniture and all kinds of stuff, Chester. Starting a new household is going to cost a fortune.”

Chester merely shrugged. “So what? You can’t take that money with you when you die, Mike, might as well spend some of it now. Besides, we’ve got a tour this summer, it will more than make up for what we’re spending. We’re going to have the best of everything! Our home will be our sanctuary! Come on, you know you’re excited to pick out china patterns with me,” he exclaimed, winking at Mike and laughing.

“You’re a mess.” Mike looked at Chester, at the happy glow across his features, and knew he’d spend any amount of money to keep that look in his eyes. He’d give away every penny if it would make Chester happy. “Are we finished in here? I’m hungry. And all that dancing is making me…” he dropped his voice low as he looked around to see if he’d be overheard. “Horny. You and those painted nails. You always know how to get to me,” he husked out. 

Chester shook his head at Mike with a sly smile. “You’re just now noticing?”

“Oh, no, it was the first thing I noticed when I got home. What was the inspiration?” Mike cocked his head to the side and looked at Chester, curiously anticipating the answer.

“Just wanted to ensure you’d agree with my choices once we got here,” Chester said, and laughed as a scowl crossed Mike’s face. “You know I’m just messing with you. I don’t know. Just missed my nail polish. I didn’t think you’d mind.”

“No, I certainly don’t mind,” Mike said, returning the pulls to their bin, “though I figured coercion was playing a part there somehow. Come on, let’s get out of here and get that cheeseburger so we can get on home.” He picked up the notebook he’d been using to write down all their selections for the contractor. “Are we going furniture shopping next weekend?” he asked as they climbed into the car again.

“We’ll have both sets of kids with us, maybe we can at least knock out their things, if nothing else.” Chester was thinking out loud. “Do you have any idea if Anna is leaving anything in the house?”

“Yeah, we’ve talked about it. She’s leaving some of the kids things for sure, but I’ll need to get them beds, and we’ll need couches and a kitchen table, and furniture of our own for our bedroom,” he smiled over at Chester. “We might need to save our bedroom shopping for when the kids are with their moms, though.”

The implication wasn’t lost on Chester, who licked his bottom lip and ran his teeth over the delicate skin quickly under Mike’s gaze before he turned his attention back to the road. “Then let’s see about all the kid’s stuff next weekend. If we can get that done, that’s a huge amount of shopping out of the way,” Chester decided.

“I can’t wait to see them again,” Mike said, smiling at the thought of having all the kids together in one house soon as he navigated the car into the parking lot of their favorite burger joint.

**********

“Aw, man, you always win this game!” Otis exclaimed, tossing the Playstation remote aside and frowning. “You get way more practice than I do.”

Tyler paused Star Wars Battlefront II and looked over at his friend. “Yeah, Mom says I play too much. You want to do something else?”

All of the girls were in the playroom with Barbies and My Little Ponies, their moms were downstairs drinking tea, and Otis didn’t have any interest in leaving the media room. “Nah, there’s too many girls around right now. Let’s keep playing. I’m gonna beat you eventually. I’m not a quitter.”

“We’ll see,” Tyler smirked, loading a new game. He looked around the room with appreciation at the ambient lighting, comfortable reclining chairs, and giant television. “Your media room is so awesome. I wish we had one like it.”

“Whatever, your Playstation is in your room! Mama and Papa would never allow that.” They played in silence for a moment before Otis said, “you won’t be allowed to do that here.”

“What do you mean?” Tyler asked, his eyes on the screen as his droid battled Otis’ clones. 

“Yes!” Otis exclaimed as his clones won a battle. Without looking over at Tyler, he answered, “Mama said Papa and your dad are going to move into my house now. We’re all going to go live closer to Grampa Hillinger. And stay here with Papa on the weekends.” 

Tyler was pushing buttons on his controller rapidly as he said, “yeah, my mom told me about it too. She said we’re going to have bedrooms here at your house. But I don’t see why I can’t have my Playstation in my room like I do at Mom’s.”

“Because we’re not allowed to have games in our rooms. Papa says so,” Otis said, as though it were completely obvious.

“But my dad will be here, too. And he says it’s okay. It’s not like it’s going to _just_ be your house. It’s going to be _our_ house.”

Otis stopped shooting for a moment and looked at Tyler in surprise. “But… it’s my house. I’ve lived here since I was a baby.”

Tyler fist pumped the air as his side won yet again while Otis was distracted. “Yeah, but, your real house will be with your mom now. You’ll just be visiting here. It will be different. Our dads will be here all the time, it’s going to be their house.”

Looking a little stunned, Otis looked back at the screen and saw the giant red letters across his side. DEFEAT. He sighed and flopped back into the recliner, still holding the remote. “I didn’t think about it like that.”

“Hey, it’s not so bad,” Tyler said, his face scrunching with worry at his friend’s defeated expression. “You’ll still have your room here, and we won’t even have to share. Lily and Lila are going to have bunk beds, Dad said, but I’ll have my own room. And you and Abi and Jo all get to keep your rooms. It will be so cool, it will be like a big sleepover!” Tyler grinned as he used his best convincing voice. “It’s like we’re gonna be brothers for real now.”

Tentatively, Otis smiled again. “Yeah, that is pretty cool. It will be awesome to have someone around besides annoying little sisters.” 

Tyler’s smile grew wider. “See, it will all be okay, you’ll see.” The boys pondered the new living arrangements for a moment before Tyler asked, “when are you moving with your mom?”

“A couple of weeks. Before Papa’s birthday.”

They were silent again for a few seconds and Tyler looked over at Otis with his eyes scrunched, a serious look on his face. “You know they’re going to sleep in the same room, right?”

Otis looked perplexed. “Who? Our dads?” He looked as though the idea were completely foreign to him.

“Yeah, who else?” Tyler answered with an air of smugness. He knew something Otis didn’t. It was the perk of having older siblings. Between Jamie, Isaiah, and Draven, there wasn’t a whole lot Tyler didn’t know. 

Otis’ eyebrows furrowed together as he processed this information. “I didn’t think about that. You mean, like, in the same bed?”

Tyler rolled his eyes. “Yeah, duh.” He leaned over the arm of the chair, closer to Otis, and whispered conspiratorially, “I’ve seen them kiss, you know.” He sat back and watched Otis’ face after he shared his little secret.

“Really?” Otis asked, shock evident on his round, innocent face.

Nodding sagely, Tyler whispered, “yeah. They didn’t know I was still awake. We were staying the night at Uncle Rob’s and I went to the bathroom and that’s when I figured out they were sleeping in the same room there, too. I passed the bedroom and they were standing next to the bed kissing each other.” He thought for a moment and went on, “there’s pictures of them kissing on the internet, too, if you want to see for yourself.”

There was another silence, this one longer, before Otis asked in a small voice, “isn’t that weird?” He glanced down at the controller in his hand, not really sure where to look or why he felt so confused. 

Tyler looked thoughtful. “I don’t think so… Dad says you can love different people different ways. Like Dra’s mom. He says he loves her because she gave him Dra, but it’s not the way he loves my mom. Or your dad.”

“But he wouldn’t kiss Dra’s mom, would he?” Otis still looked skeptical.

“Ew, no!” Both boys collapsed in giggles. “He’s kissing Uncle Mike because they’re in love,” Tyler whispered, as though it were a secret. To the boys, it was a big secret, and they had no idea that everyone else in their lives already knew.

“Oh. Well, your dad loves everyone,” Otis replied. “I don’t really know what the difference is between loving someone and being in love with someone. I guess maybe it’s just kissing?”

Tyler made a face. “Otis, sometimes you’re so clueless. Our dads are _in love._ Like, they want to live together and sleep together and be together all the time.” Now it was his turn for furrowed eyebrows. “Dra says it’s weird but Jamie said that Dad is still Dad no matter who he’s living with. And Mom says that Dad is really happy, so I think Dra is wrong. And I think it’s cool that we’ll get to be brothers, like Jamie and Isaiah and Dra. You’re not the oldest anymore,” Tyler finished, lightly punching Otis’ arm.

Picking up his controller, Otis smiled again. “I’m not the youngest, though, and I’m still going to beat you. Let’s play again.” 

Tyler loaded another game and Otis turned his attention to the screen, his mind full of new information and questions to ask his father when they were together next weekend.


	53. Family

_We need a bigger car,_ Mike decided as he looked in the rearview mirror at Chester in the car behind him, singing at what was likely top volume while they were stopped at the light. They each had their own three children in the car with them, headed out furniture shopping for the afternoon. Mike had never considered owning a minivan but at the moment, it seemed to be a better alternative than being separated from Chester. _Minivan? I can’t drive a minivan. Nobody from Linkin Park can drive a minivan… we’re too cool for that… even though we’re dads… and in our forties._ Mike frowned at the thought, now looking at himself in the rearview mirror. _Do I look forty? I think I look okay. Chester thinks I look okay. All the fans think I look okay… although they always like my under-the-chin Instagram pics, and everyone knows that nobody looks good from that angle._ He sighed, shaking his head at his reflection. He was okay with turning forty-one in a few weeks. As okay as he’d been turning forty. And thirty-nine.

The light honk of the horn from Chester in the car behind him brought his eyes back to the light, which had turned green while he sat there, lamenting his aging. It still didn’t seem possible they were all in their forties, except Rob. _Where has the time gone?_

“Papa, can we have sushi for dinner?” Otis asked as they passed a favored restaurant, bringing Mike out of his thoughts. “I haven’t had any since the last time you took me.”

Mike glanced over at his son in the front seat before he answered, “I don’t know if Lily and Lila will eat sushi, we’ll have to ask. We may have to do sushi sometime when it’s just us.”

“I don’t want sushi either,” Jo piped up from the backseat.

“You like sushi,” Mike said, flicking his eyes to her in the rearview mirror. “Just because the twins don’t like sushi doesn’t mean you don’t like sushi.”

“I didn’t say I didn’t _like_ it, I said I don’t _want_ it,” Jo mumbled under her breath.

Mike wasn’t about to listen to that kind of backtalk from one of his kids. “Don’t sass me,” he told her, his eyebrow cocked and his voice authoritative. “You can simply say nothing if you can’t phrase your comment nicely. A better way to say that would have been, ‘Papa, I like sushi, I just don’t want any today.’ Do you understand the difference?”

Jo looked down at her hands. “Yes, sir.”

Mike felt a pang in his heart at her sad expression. She was only five, but he wasn’t about to raise disrespectful children. “Thank you, Josie.” 

A few moments passed with only the sound of the radio playing lightly in the background, before Otis asked another question. “How much longer until you and Uncle Chester move in to our old house?” 

“Well, you guys are moving with Mama next weekend, on the third, and after that the contractor will come in and put down new floors and do some renovations upstairs… but as soon as the floors are finished, we plan to start moving things,” Mike explained again. Otis had been asking a lot of questions this morning already, and he didn’t mind, as long as it was a new question. He’d already answered this particular question several times. “Would you feel better if I had an exact date?” he asked, glancing over at his son. 

“Yeah,” the little boy nodded his head and looked expectantly at his father.

“I think it will be the weekend of my birthday,” Mike said after he thought about it. “And then we’ll have your new furniture delivered that next week, so it will be there for you when you come stay with us.”

“I want a unicorn bed!” Jo called from the backseat.

“I don’t think they make unicorn beds, Josie,” Mike said, even though he wasn’t sure. He was already nervous about having all four girls in the furniture store together, knowing it was likely there would be tears as they all learned they couldn’t have the same beds. Chester’s twins would be sharing a room, and he’d already told his girls they’d be getting bunk beds. Mike was afraid that his girls would want bunk beds even though there was no need, and on the flip side he worried that once Chester’s girls saw what Abi and Jo picked out, they wouldn’t want bunk beds anymore. Chester had been right. Four girls under the age of seven under one roof was a lot of little girl moods to deal with at one time. Chester’s girls were sassier than Mike’s, and Mike wasn’t sure how that was all going to play out either. It seemed that Mike was going to have to relax his parenting style a bit if he was going to be co-parenting with Chester, considering that his girls were well versed in the profanities from which Mike tried to shield his daughters. 

“Papa, my friend Elizabeth has a canopy bed,” Abi started, catching his eyes in the mirror. “May I look at canopy beds?” 

“I want a canopy bed!” Jo added.

Mike sighed with a smile. “We’re almost there, let’s see what they have when we get there,” he encouraged, not about to start speculating about beds while they were still in the car. The next light turned yellow as he went underneath and he sighed again as Chester stopped at the light. _Fucking minivans. I don’t want a minivan._ He changed into the right lane and slowed down, waiting for Chester to catch up.

Eventually they all made it to the furniture store, where it became immediately evident that Mike had no experience corralling more than three children in a public space. The showroom was huge, and the combined eight Bennington-Shinoda’s stood just inside the entrance as Chester looked helplessly at the map of the building, searching for kid’s furniture. Preoccupied with his girls tugging on both hands, Mike didn’t realize the boys had taken off toward the living room sets that were being showcased with giant televisions. By the time Chester had determined that the children’s furniture was upstairs, one-third of their children were out of sight. 

“Where’s Ty?” Chester asked Lila, who just shrugged her shoulders in response. “Mike?”

“What’s that?” Mike looked over at Chester. “I didn’t hear you.”

“I asked where’s Ty? And apparently Otis.” Chester scanned the room in a wide circle before glancing back at Mike. “Jeez, Mikey, you already lost half our kids in the amount of time it took me to look at a map. We’re never going to survive this.”

Mike looked down and counted four long, dark ponytails. “One-third, Ches, not half. And it’s not my fault it takes you five minutes to read a map of a department store.”

“ _Furniture Showroom_ ,” Chester correctly airily. “C’mon, I bet they’re with the tv’s.”

Each of their four hands was occupied with holding the hand of the little girl on either side of them, and Mike and Chester could only look at each other while they walked the bottom floor, searching for the boys. It took several minutes, but Tyler and Otis were exactly where Chester predicted they would be- sitting on giant leather recliners, watching a huge television showing a safari documentary. 

“You guys want to wait here while we look at furniture with the girls?” Chester asked at the exact same time Mike admonished, “you guys can’t just go running off in the store like that!”

Tyler and Otis looked at each other in confusion as Chester and Mike looked at each other, Chester’s expression amused, Mike’s annoyed. Strangely, all four girls were silent, looking up at their fathers.

“Damn, Shinoda, it’s just a furniture store, it’s not like they ended up in Mexico,” Chester teased. “They’ll be fine right here while we take the girls up to look at girly stuff. Right, you two?” He looked at Tyler, who nodded.

“I’ve got my phone, Dad.” Tyler waved his prized iPhone at Chester. “If we need you I’ll text you.”

Otis looked wistfully at Tyler’s phone before he looked at Mike anxiously. It was clear to Mike that Otis thought he should be allowed a little bit more freedom, but he wasn’t about to ask, given that Mike had just scolded him for running off without asking. He gripped Abi and Jo’s small hands tighter and sighed, looking at Chester. _So this is how it’s going to be. He’s going to force me to relax some, isn’t he? Before I know it, Otis will be texting girls from his new iPhone and my girls will be sending me Snaps. I’m not ready for this!_ Chester smiled encouragingly, and Mike relented. “Okay, son. You can stay here with Tyler. But _do not_ change locations without letting us know where you are.”

“Okay, Uncle Mike,” Tyler answered instantly, and Otis smiled so happily at Mike, he forgot that he was slightly annoyed at Chester.

“We’re going upstairs,” Chester said to the boys, then nodded his head toward the escalator, indicating that Mike should follow. 

It was only marginally easier to look at little girl’s furniture without the addition of the two boys. As soon as glossy white furniture came into view, Chester’s girls ran ahead of him, throwing themselves onto different beds and giggling, calling for him to join them. While Mike steered his girls toward a beautiful mahogany bedroom set that he thought Abi would love, Chester was tickling Lily and laughing like there was nowhere else he’d rather be on a Saturday afternoon. By contrast, Mike hated shopping. In his head there was a long list of furniture to procure, and spending time jumping on beds they weren’t even going to buy was just going to make the afternoon seem longer. 

Mike was looking at the tag on the bed as Abi climbed carefully on top, discarding her shoes by the side before laying down. Jo scrambled up beside her, shoes still on her feet.

“Jo, take your shoes off!” Abi exclaimed.

With pouty lips, Jo complied, then flopped down next to her sister, the sound of Lily and Lila’s shrieks filling the air. Before Mike could even look to see what was happening, Chester had swooped onto the bed, Lily and Lila with him, as they carried out a sneak tickle attack on Abi and Jo.

“Chester!” Mike hissed, “you’re going to get us kicked out!” He looked around the showroom floor, which was packed with people.

Chester looked up at Mike and grinned. “So? Wouldn’t be the first time. C’mon, Mikey, loosen up a bit. Today is supposed to be fun!” 

It was an irresistable smile, the kind Chester always used to get his way with Mike. He could see the tip of Chester’s tongue poking between his teeth, the little crinkles in the corners of his eyes, and Mike melted the way he always did when Chester looked at him that way. “It _is_ fun, Ches… I just don’t want to be here all day if we can help it… there’s always other things to do, you know.”

The desire that was always there sparked in the air between them, and Mike knew Chester had heard what he hadn’t said aloud. Kissing the tops of the twins heads, Chester hopped off the bed, reaching back for their hands. “Okay, ladies, let’s go look at bunk beds. It’s decision time.” He winked at Mike and pointed toward an area with bunk beds, and Mike turned back to Abi.

“What do you think, sweetheart?” Mike asked, looking at the matching dresser and nightstand to the bed his daughter was laying on.

“It’s nice, Papa, but I really, really wanted a canopy bed,” Abi said softly. 

Mike glanced around the room until he located the bed his daughter had been hoping for, on the far corner of the showroom. “Over here, then, Abi, I think this might be what you’re looking for.”

Three more hours passed while Mike and Chester selected, ordered, and paid for six new bedroom sets, to the delight of the two salespeople helping them. There was the white canopy set for Abi, a dark wood daybed for Jo, and a complete rustic bedroom set for Otis that Mike absolutely loved. Chester’s girls had decided on white bunk beds and a single, long dresser with drawers for each of them, and Tyler had chosen an all black set for his room. All of the kids had been ushered into a play area in the back of the store while Mike and Chester filled out information and swiped credit cards, and as they were on their way back upstairs to collect the children, they passed a bedroom suite that caught Chester’s eye, and he stopped in the middle of the aisle.

“Mike, that’s it. That’s the one.” He pointed at the bed, a massive four poster with squared columns that looked like something out of an elaborate Shakespearean movie production. Mike had to admit the deep espresso color of the the wood and intricate carving was breathtaking. With his lips close to Mike’s ear and his voice low, Chester whispered, “can you imagine tying me up on that bed?”

The image of naked Chester tied to the center of that giant bed blazed through Mike’s mind at lightning speed. “That’s the bed you want?” Mike was prepared to buy him anything, anything he wanted as thoughts of Chester’s tattooed body against crisp white sheets simmered behind his eyes. 

“Yes… yes, love, that’s our bed.” Chester squeezed his arm, his eyes alight with desire. 

Without another thought, Mike turned back toward the service area. “Let’s go buy it, Ches. If you know that’s the one, that’s that one.”

Another half hour of waiting and filling out paperwork, and they had completed their first major purchase together. Chester was giddy as they made their way upstairs, his hand in the back pocket of Mike’s jeans, possessively holding Mike close to his hip. He’d just pecked one last triumphant kiss to Mike’s cheek when they arrived back at the play area to collect the kids, unexpectedly running right into Otis and Tyler sitting on a bench outside the entrance. Tyler didn’t look the least bit phased by the obvious affection between the two men, but Otis had a slightly confused expression as he looked at his father and Chester. 

Mike felt the heat rising in his cheeks as Chester squeezed his ass and slid his arm away while his son looked at them. _I haven’t really told him much yet, and I should have. I’m not ashamed of my choices. I need to talk to them all. Guess that’s what I’m doing on the way home._ “You guys ready to head back to Uncle Rob’s?” he asked brightly as Otis stared at him. 

Tyler bounced up and called into the play area, “Lil! Dad’s back, let’s go!” before he looked at Chester. “I’m starving. Can we order pizza?”

Otis’ face fell a little, and Mike remembered that he’d wanted sushi. Thinking fast, he looked at Chester. “Ches, I was thinking about taking the kids out for sushi, just a little time to ourselves. Why don’t you guys grab something and we’ll all meet back up at Rob’s?” He knew he was making a good choice when Otis’ face brightened in response to his suggestion.

With a tilt of his head, Chester tried to read Mike’s mind. They’d originally planned dinner at home, but Chester knew there had to be a good reason for the change of plans, so he simply responded to Tyler, “we can go anywhere you want. You sure you want pizza?”

By that time the girls had caught up to them, Lily and Lila clamoring for pizza. Abi was excited to go have sushi, but Jo stomped her foot, displeasure all over her face. “Papa, I _said_ I don’t want sushi!”

Before Mike could respond, Chester knelt down, looking at Jo on her level. “Would you like to come have pizza with us? There’s room in my car for one more. If that’s okay with you, Mike,” he added, looking up at the emcee.

“Oh, please, Papa! Let me go with Lily and Lila!” Jo exclaimed, clapping her hands together.

Mike reached for his youngest daughter and smoothed a strand of hair that had loosened from her ponytail back behind her ear. “If you go with Uncle Chester, you must behave, Josie. No pouting,” he added.

Jo wrapped her arms around Mike’s legs and hugged him, looking up at him. “Thank you, Papa! I’ll be good, I promise!”

It was decided, then, and Mike figured he’d make good on his alone time with Otis and Abi, bonding over sushi and trying to delicately explain his relationship with Chester. As they parted ways in the parking lot, Mike felt nervous, as nervous as he’d felt when he first told his kids that he and Anna were divorcing. Even though they knew Chester, had known him their whole lives, and loved him as their Uncle, he wasn’t entirely sure that love would unconditionally spread to accepting Chester as their father’s new partner. He didn’t even know how to bring up the subject. As it turned out, he didn’t have time to plan anything. 

The moment the driver’s door closed beside Mike, Otis started with his questions again. “Papa… Tyler says you and Uncle Chester are going to share a bedroom at our house.”

“Yes, that’s right,” Mike answered cautiously, glancing in the rearview at Abi. She was twisting her ponytail around her fingers, looking at Otis. 

Otis’ eyebrows knit together as he was thinking things over. “You’re going to sleep in the same bed?”

“Yes, that’s right, too. Did Tyler tell you that also?” Mike asked in return. 

Nodding, Otis rushed out, “he said you’re in love. And that’s why you kiss, like how you used to kiss Mama. And you already told me that you love Uncle Chester, but I don’t understand the difference between loving someone and being in love with someone. I told Tyler that the difference was kissing. Is that right, Papa?”

The car was still in park. Mike turned and looked at Otis straight on, then at Abi in the backseat, now clutching her hands together. “I don’t want to hide anything from you, Otis, and and don’t want you to feel that way. You either, Abi.” He took a deep breath and continued. “Tyler is right, Uncle Chester and I are in love with each other, just like I told you before. We’re going to live together the way that Mama and I used to live together, and you both already knew that as well. Living together means that we’re going to share a bedroom, and sleep in the same bed, too. It means that you might even see us kiss each other, and that’s part of being in love, and being happy.” Mike waited for his words to sink in, looking anxiously at his kids, wondering if he’d said enough and simultaneously wondering if he’d said too much. _How much is too much for their age? How much does Tyler understand about our relationship? How much has he said to Otis? How much has Tyler heard from his brothers?_

“Is that why Uncle Chester kissed you in the store?” Otis looked less concerned now then he had moments earlier.

“You’ve seen Uncle Chester kiss my cheek before,” Mike reminded his son. “You’ve known him your whole life, Otis. He loves you, and he loves you, Abi,” he reached back and squeezed his daughter’s knee. “I know that it’s different, and it feels like a lot of change right now, but we are all going to have so much fun together, and like I told you before, being together with your Uncle Chester makes me so happy.” A new thought occurred to him, and Mike went on, “he’s not going to replace your mother, or ever even try. You guys will always have your family, me and Mama, always, nothing will change that. Even if we live in separate houses. That’s not what makes a family. Love is what makes a family.”

“That’s why Tyler’s brothers can live in different places, but they’re all still a family. Because of love.” Otis connected the dots proudly, looking at Mike for approval.

“Yes! That’s right,” Mike agreed with relief. _Maybe it’s sinking in, maybe I’m saying it right. Maybe I’m not totally screwing this up._ “There are all kinds of different ways to love people. It’s true that we’re going to have a different kind of family, one where there’s two dads instead of a mom and a dad, and it’s okay for us to be different. As long as we love each other, and believe in each other and trust each other, everything will be fine. Do you guys understand what I’m saying?”

Abi nodded her head, and Mike wasn’t completely sure that she understood everything he’d said. Otis looked calmer, and wiser with the information Mike had provided, but he knew this wasn’t the last conversation they’d have about his relationship with Chester. They would get older and there would be more questions, and maybe even eventually some unhappiness as they understood better what had happened between him and Anna, and Chester. He wasn’t looking forward to the harder conversations but took comfort in the knowledge that he had years to figure out what to say. Maybe by then there wouldn’t even be a need for explanation. Maybe once they’d created a new home together, it would just be the new normal for all of their kids, no questions asked. 

“I love you both,” Mike said simply, “and Josie, too.”

“I love you, too, Papa,” both Otis and Abi replied, and Mike felt his heart swell with love. 

“How about that sushi, now, I’m starving,” Mike asked, starting the car as the kids agreed happily. All Mike could think about was how grateful he was that they were accepting it all... it would be okay, just as Chester had always said of their relationship. It would all be okay.


	54. Home

As they pulled into the driveway of Mike’s house, Chester heard the emcee’s long exhalation of a breath it seemed he’d been holding since they left Rob’s. He glanced toward his passenger seat to see Mike’s hands nervously clutching his thighs, his fingers flexing repeatedly. “You okay, Mikey?” he asked, shifting into park and sliding his right hand over to cover Mike’s left. 

“Yeah… yeah… I’m just anxious to see everything.” Mike sighed again, the corner of his mouth turning up into a small, hopeful smile. “I want so badly for this to be _ours_ and I’m just worried that it will still seem like it was… before.”

Before.

_It seems like a whole different life, now, my life with Anna. How did twenty years get deconstructed in the same number of heartbeats it took to build this life with Chester? How did everything in my life change except Chester?_

Chester squeezed his hand, an understanding look on his face. “Well, I’m excited. Our contractor says the floors are finished, and they’ve already done the demo work upstairs. It will at least give us an idea of what it will look like when it’s completed. Come on, we don’t have to stay long if it bothers you.” 

Mike looked at Chester and turned his palm up to link their fingers together. “I’m just… excited and terrified, I guess. It was so real to come in here after Anna moved her things out. I don’t know Ches… I don’t understand how I feel.”

It had been a week since Mike and Chester had walked, hand in hand, through the bottom floor of his house, taking survey of what had been left behind, moving items from the walls and off the existing carpeting onto tile, preparing for the work that was to be done. Mike had been shaken by some of the things that Anna had chosen to leave behind; a painting he’d made for her years ago that had hung in their dining room ever since he’d given it to her; a pair of crystal champagne flutes from their wedding; a box of snapshots she’d taken during their very first tour. 

The painting had been taken down and stored in the garage, covered with a sheet. It had felt like a stab in Mike’s heart- the painting that had once meant so much being left behind, discarded in Anna’s bitter sadness. The crystal champagne flutes had shattered as Mike tossed them in the bin. She’d left them behind simply to hurt him, not because either of them might have had a use for them at all. It was purely symbolic. But by far the most damaging thing she’d done was leave the box of pictures on the bar in the kitchen, very obviously sorted through, divided into three distinct piles: pictures of everyone in the band, pictures of Mike with Anna, and pictures of Mike with only Chester. 

Mike had felt the tears coming as he thumbed through the pictures, first of him with Anna, then of himself with Chester. It had been stupidly, painfully obvious from the way he gazed at Chester in those candid photos that Mike had been in love since the beginning. Chester, with his bleached blonde hair, his huge dark eyes, his lip ring, smiling at Mike in every photo, and Mike with various shades of hair color, some good, some terrible, his eyes never straying from Chester. His face was the same in every picture, the same rapturous sense of wonder across his features as in the selfie he’d taken in Hawaii, and the very fact that they had denied their love for almost twenty years and had been allowed to live in that lie when it should have been clear to everyone around them was astonishing. It was right there, in every picture. Mike and Chester. In love.

“It’s okay to feel… things…” Chester started to explain. They sat in silence for a few minutes, looking at the house in front of them. Finally, he went on, quietly, “you’ll always love her, Mike. I understand that. Just, give this a chance. It really, truly doesn’t bother me to live here, but if you can’t do it, we’ll go anywhere you want, buy a house anywhere and make it ours. I really think we can make this _ours_ , though, Mike. Come on, let’s go check it out.” 

Wordlessly, Mike nodded, releasing Chester’s hand and reaching for the door handle. _I want this to work. I want to make this my home with him. I want this to work._ They both exited Chester’s car, and walked up the driveway and sidewalk, past the recently pruned bougainvilleas that Mike loved to see blooming in the summer. He fondly glanced over the front garden and realized just how much he’d missed being at home. 

There was still a paper walkway covering the new hardwood floors, but Mike gasped in awe at what he could see as they stepped inside. Replacing the carpeting with the dark panels Chester had chosen had already added refinement to the downstairs living space. Gone was the toddler-friendly microfiber furniture, and suddenly it was easy for Mike to visualize the caramel colored leather sofas they had chosen for the room, the deep burgundy accent pieces, and in his mind he’d already begun visualizing new artwork he wanted to start for the room. 

Chester was down on the floor, running his hand over the wood. “You have to feel this, Mikey, it’s so smooth. Wow, they did a nice job. They must have had an army of guys in here to get this done so fast and so well.”

Mike slipped his shoes off next to the door and reached to pull off his socks, then cautiously ran a bare foot along the floor’s surface. “Oh, that is nice! Chester, take your shoes off, I want to go check out the rest.”

Quickly, Chester toed his shoes off next to Mike’s and slid over on socked feet. “I know, I can’t wait to see upstairs! Don’t forget, it’s not finished, yet. They’ve just done the demo so far. It’s going to be a few weeks until it’s finished.”

“I know,” Mike fretted, “but maybe it will go faster than expected.” They crossed the den and into a wide, short hallway that connected the den to the formal dining area, a room now devoid of all items. Anna had taken their dining set, as well as all the china, to her new home. Mike didn’t even spare a glance into the dining room as they made their way upstairs. 

They poked their head into each of the kids’ rooms as they made their way down the hall. Their rooms all held an assortment of items left behind, toys and games, little trinkets that they wanted to have at this home instead of the other. Mike felt the loss tugging at his heart, but resolutely continued on toward the master suite, nervously anticipating seeing the bedroom and bathroom for the first time since he’d moved out.

With a deep breath he watched Chester enter the bedroom, and he closed his eyes briefly as he moved forward to follow him. _Do it now, just look at it. You can do this. You can make this work. You can share this room with Chester, it won’t be the same. He promised._

Mike was surprised when he gathered the courage to open his eyes. “Wow, it looks so different in here!” Mike stood in the doorway of the master suite, looking around in awe. They were standing on the subfloor, looking at where the wall between the master bedroom and what used to be a spare room had been removed, almost doubling the size of the room. The carpeting had been pulled up and was scheduled to be replaced once the room had been completed. Even with the carpeting gone, Mike was impressed, already able to visualize the new space that would look nothing like the room he’d shared with Anna for years. 

Chester was already on the other side of the room, his arms flung wide as he gestured to Mike, talking excitedly. “This whole back part will be my new walk in closet, and this side here will be nothing but shoe shelves. Can you believe it? It’s supposed to hold over one hundred pairs of shoes, Mikey! They already knocked out the wall between the closets in the bathroom, it will just be one large closet with two sides, connected by my shoe wall!"

Mike couldn’t contain the eye roll and grin that came with Chester’s exuberant explanation. “ _Your_ shoe wall? Whatever happened to ‘shared space’ in the closet?”

With a cheeky grin, Chester answered, “oh, you can have a couple of shelves, I guess. We both know my shoe collection is _far_ more impressive than yours.” He was already stepping through the open wall to the bathroom, eager to check it out.

Mike entered the bathroom through the proper door, surprised to see nothing but subfloor, the large jetted soaking tub in the corner, and the vanity and countertop remaining. The shower surround, floor tile work, and mirrors had all been removed in the demo, and replacement hadn’t yet begun. However, the plumbing work had already been completed, and Mike could see the additional shower heads Chester had requested in the new, oil rubbed bronze finish they had chosen together. The entire space would be transformed with the new finishes, and even though Mike hadn’t been sure that he wanted to live in his house again, he was now standing in the master suite that looked nothing like the memories he had of the space. The relief he felt was giddying, and he reached for Chester, pulling him flush to his body, hands on the vocalist’s hips. 

“Do you like it so far?” Chester asked, reaching to brush back a lock of hair that had fallen over Mike’s forehead in a silky black wave.

“More than I thought would be possible,” Mike admitted, his eyes crinkled into a smile as he leaned in to kiss Chester’s lips firmly. “It seems completely different in here, and I am so, so glad. You were right, Ches.”

“Of course I was.” Chester’s eyes sparkled as he looked at Mike. “I’m so glad Anna wanted to move. This is going to work out perfectly for us. I know you’re dying to paint again.”

Chester was right about that as well. It had been months since Mike had picked up a paintbrush, and his fingers twitched just thinking about the feel of the brush in his hand, the smell of paint, the sound of bristles moving over canvas. Painting was an extremely pleasurable creative outlet for Mike, one of the only activities he loved that wasn’t music related, and he had missed it tremendously. “The studios. Let’s go take a look, make sure everything is where I left it.” 

The art studio was musty smelling from being closed up for months, but everything was as Mike had left it before they went on tour last summer. A completed painting rested on the floor against the wall, the curtains drawn shut, and the tops of his workspaces clean, though dusty. He’d put everything away and organized the room carefully before tour, and it pleased him to walk into an orderly studio, even though typically the space was a chaotic mess while he was working on a project. While Chester curiously opened drawers and cabinets, Mike drew back the heavy curtains, allowing the abundant natural lighting to come inside the room, before opening the two windows to let in some fresh air. 

“That should help,” Mike murmured, fussing around the room a few more minutes before turning to Chester and winking. “Let’s go get our studio back.”

It was as though time had stood still in the months since they’d been inside Mike’s home studio. Sheets of lyrics were strewn on the desk, a t-shirt of Chester’s tossed carelessly over the arm of the sofa where he’d left it the last time they’d recorded some vocals in the booth. Smirking, Chester picked up the t-shirt and threw it at Mike, who caught it easily.

“Do you remember why this is here?” he asked playfully, the small pink tip of his tongue sticking out between his teeth, teasing Mike.

Mike glanced down at the shirt and the memory came back to him instantly. “Yeah. You told me it was too fucking hot in here to sing and you took off your shirt and threw it at me while I was trying to level a track. Then you spent the rest of the afternoon parading around in here without a shirt while I was _trying_ to work. You were even doing pushups.”

Chester giggled at the memory. “You couldn’t keep your eyes off of me, love.”

“That was before Birmingham? Right?” Mike struggled to place the memory chronologically, laying the t-shirt down next to his keyboard.

Nodding, Chester said, “yeah, it was before we left in May. The beginning of everything.” The laughter in his eyes softened as he looked at Mike. “The beginning of you telling me every night that you were in love with me without even knowing you were saying it. I knew, Mike, I felt that change coming the last time we were in here together, the way you looked at me… I felt those looks in my soul. You wanted me, and I wanted you, and there was so much standing in the way. Now look at how far we’ve come...” He reached for a lyric sheet, his elegant scrawl and Mike’s blocky letters mixed together where they’d revised words they’d written, their thoughts flowing together seamlessly. There were so many new thoughts they hadn’t even tried to create music for yet, and Chester suddenly felt anxious to get back to work, excited to get some of the things rolling about in his head out in song. “We really need to get the guys together and write a bit. Not here, at the big studio.” 

Mike came to stand next to him, looking over his shoulder at the lyrics Chester was reading. “Ah, yeah, I remember working on that one. We even got some of it recorded,” he remembered. “After you stopped complaining about being hot, and decided to stop teasing me with your hot body.” Mike traced his fingertips along Chester’s neck, down his back, and watched the shiver cross through the vocalist’s body. “You’re right. I wanted you so much that day. I’m glad you can’t torture me like that anymore. I swear, you wouldn’t believe how much time I spent concealing a hard on under this desk while you were singing.” Mike’s voice dropped and he kissed the back of Chester’s neck as he ran a hand around his side, stroking lightly over his stomach. “I fucking love those sexy little breaths you put at the ends of phrases. Jesus, that turns me on so much.”

With a devious smile, Chester slipped out of Mike’s hands and stalked over to the vocal booth, picking up his headphones and looking at Mike wickedly. “You’ll want to turn your computer on, Shinoda. You don’t want to miss recording this one.”

It was all Mike could do to get his equipment running as quickly as possible, his heart racing as he flipped switches and clicked screens. Chester had disappeared from view, the only downside to the current studio setup. Mike couldn’t watch his lover’s face as he sang when they recorded at home the way he was able to watch him in the big studio, where only a thick glass wall was between them instead of the wall of the converted hallway. Mike loved to watch Chester at work, the way he closed his eyes and held onto his headphones with his slim fingers, the way his neck arched when he threw it back, the exquisite pleasure that washed over his features as he released his emotion into song. Chester singing was a beautiful creature, and he was currently separated from Mike’s view by a damn wall.

“I’ve got it ready, Ches… for whatever you have in mind…” Mike waited with breathless anticipation. He heard a light giggle through his headphones, before Chester started singing, his voice lower than normal.

“Hap-py biiiiiirthday… to yooouuuuuu…”

A smile stretched across Mike’s face. Chester was going Marilyn Monroe on him.

“Hap-py birthhhhday… to yooouuuuu…” The sigh went straight to Mike’s dick. Chester sounded as though he were the one receiving pleasure in the vocal booth.

“Hap-py biiirrrrrthhhhh-day, Mister Shin-ooooo-daaaaahhhh,” the ‘ah’ at the end breathy and desperate. “Hap-py biirthhhhday... tooooooo... yooooouuuu.” 

Mike took off his headphones and made his way around the side of the desk to see Chester, not let down in the least by the wanton look on his face, his lips parted slightly and his dark eyes half closed. “My birthday isn’t until tomorrow, Ches,” he said playfully as he reached for the vocalist. As his lips descended over Chester’s, Mike thought of the hundreds of times he’d wanted to kiss him in this very location, when the euphoria of finally getting vocals right was cause for celebration, the joy of creating music with his best friend almost palpable between them. They’d never crossed the line in this house, had never done more than affectionately hug each other in the studio, though glances full of smoldering desire had been passed between them for years. Never anything more, and now they were pressed together in the vocal booth, greedy lips and tongues taking from each other what they had repressed the desire for all along. 

As Mike’s lips traveled softly down Chester’s neck, seeking tender locations that would make him moan, Chester whispered his approval while taking off his headphones. Mike’s hands slid down Chester’s back and into the pockets of his jeans, pulling him closer and tighter while he sucked along Chester’s collarbone, leaving faint pink marks along the porcelain skin. Dropping the headphones, Chester’s hands returned to Mike’s hair, threading through the soft black strands as he whimpered in delight. “I _know_ when your birthday is, Mikey,” Chester finally responded. “I just thought you’d like to get off on me breathing down the mic for you. After all, you _did_ mention that turned you on…” 

Moving his hands from Chester’s pockets, Mike grabbed the hem of Chester’s shirt and pushed up, revealing the tight muscles of his stomach as Mike dropped to his knees, poking his wet tongue into Chester’s belly button. He heard the light gasp over head and smiled, gently nipping the skin with his teeth and feeling the reflexive pull of Chester’s stomach in toward his spine. They were transfixed, black hair tickling against his white stomach as he licked and kissed, tasted and explored the vocalist’s body in a way he’d never been allowed in this house. _Now this is going to be our home… and I can do whatever I want to do to him in this studio._ The realization hit Mike with such force he was knocked back onto his heels for a moment, his chin tipped up as he looked at Chester.

“What is it, love?” Chester asked breathlessly, his beautiful brown eyes staring questioningly down into Mike’s, the loss of Mike’s warm kisses leaving him with a deep frown. 

“I just… I still have moments that I can’t believe this is real. Where I think that this is all just a cruel joke, that this can’t possibly be our reality.” Mike slid his hands up the front of Chester’s thighs, adoring the way his lover’s eyes fell shut at the contact. “I’ve wanted you in here so many times, Ches. I’ve wanted to kiss you, wanted to touch you, taste you, _have you_ on more than just an emotional level… and here we are. Finally.” Chester was leaning his head back against the padded wall as Mike’s hands worked his belt buckle apart with confidence. “I want to record your voice when you come for me, love.” 

Mike’s words alone, his voice low and gravelly with desire, brought a breathy, desperate moan from Chester’s throat, long before the emcee’s deft fingers unzipped his pants and stroked him through his boxers. Pressing his face forward again, Mike kissed along the waistband of Chester’s pants before he slowly tugged them down, making sure to graze his fingers over the front of the boxers again, and he pushed the thin fabric down slightly to lightly bite the contoured hipbone there, his thumbs holding those hips against the wall as they tried to buck forward. With a disapproving click of his tongue, Mike shook his head, husking out, “not yet, be still,” and Chester moaned softly again, the anticipation of what was about to happen clearly getting under his skin. “You don’t have to worry about being quiet, Ches… let it all go, love.”

He glanced up to see Chester’s cheeks turn a delicate shade of pink as he slipped his fingers inside the back of Chester’s boxers, tracing lightly over his firm ass before leaning forward to press his face against the obvious mound in front of him. Mike opened his mouth to breathe warm air through the boxers to Chester’s dick, and the tremble he felt from the other man’s legs was deeply satisfying. _I need to taste him, feel him in my mouth, I have wanted to do this here so many times. Chester was right, living here is going to be amazing._

The whines from low in Chester’s throat were sending shockwaves through Mike’s limbs. He felt painfully electrified as he hooked his fingers on the waistband of the boxers and pulled them down to mid-thigh, making Chester incapable of walking away. Not that he would want to, but knowing that he’d rendered the other man immovable was empowering. As Chester’s hands helplessly pawed at Mike’s face and hair, he reached one hand out for a long, smooth downstroke, eliciting another breathy moan from the vocalist’s lips, this one louder than the last. The handjob continued for mere strokes before Mike impatiently took Chester into his mouth, gliding his tongue around the head of his dick and tasting the moisture there, his stomach twisting into knots as the presence of his lover hit all of his senses at once-- he was beautiful, his silky skin smelling of lavender and his own musk, his voice that of an angel, and he tasted like only Chester ever could, a taste all his own. With deep love and affection, Mike slid his mouth up and down, slicked his tongue over Chester’s sensitive skin, listened as all of the endearing sounds made were recorded on his computer, waiting there for Mike to cherish later. He’d always fantasized about different shared intimacies with Chester in the studio, and now all those fantasies were on their way to becoming his reality. Mike wasn’t sure how he’d ever gotten so lucky.

“Just fuck me, fuck me, Mikey,” Chester moaned, his head twisting side to side against the vocal booth wall as Mike continued pleasuring him with only his mouth, still pressing the vocalist’s hips against the wall, forcing him to be still. 

There would be no fucking this afternoon. His pleas only caused Mike to increase his suction, tightening his lips around Chester and relaxing his throat, slowly sinking further down until he felt the head of Chester’s dick at the back of his throat, and he willed himself not to gag, willed himself to continue to take his lover inside as he listened to the erotic sounds from above. He knew Chester was close as he whimpered and sighed pure pleasure, and Mike finally let go of Chester’s hips, allowing his fiance to fuck his mouth as he pleased. The ability to move freely was a relief and Chester was only able to thrust forward into his warm willing mouth a few times before he came, crying out Mike’s name and releasing his hot seed in thick streams, Mike swallowing down every last drop as his movements slowed, his breaths rising and falling in his chest rapidly, his heart beating out of control. Lips still around him, Mike looked up to watch Chester’s head drop forward as he panted, his eyes opening in sated bliss to lock into Mike’s.

“Fuck, Mike… I mean… do you know how many times I’ve imagined exactly that?” He stroked Mike’s hair away from his eyes and watched as Mike pulled away, tenderly spreading kisses across Chester’s pelvis before gently pulling up his boxers and jeans and buckling his belt. Chester rested heavily against the wall, caressing any part of Mike’s face he could reach through it all, then kissing him deeply when Mike rose from the floor, his knees popping as he moved. As they rested their foreheads together, Mike smiled, his eyes closed. “What is it?” Chester asked, his voice soft.

“I just love you, and I’m so happy I’m with you. Even if it’s years after we met and my knees pop and we need a damn minivan to haul all our kids around in… I’m happy, Chester. Every part of me is happy to be with you.”

“ _Minivan?_ ” Chester snorted with laughter, his eyes squeezed shut in mirth. “No fucking minivans, Shinoda. No way. What the fuck brought that on?”

“The other week, when we had all the kids…” Mike opened his eyes and dropped a kiss on Chester’s cheek. “It was awful being away from you when we had to take two different cars out. It was awful not being able to hear you sing in the car. I missed you. And I started thinking we needed a bigger car, and I don’t want a minivan either. How ridiculous would that be?” 

They giggled quietly together for another moment before Chester linked his hands behind Mike’s back and squeezed him in a tight hug. “I hate being away from you too. But… no minivans.”

“No minivans,” Mike agreed. “I better go stop that recording. And save it somewhere safely passcode protected under some boring generic name-”

“Stardust,” Chester interrupted, and Mike grinned at him. “Because you always make me see stars.”

“I had no idea you were so romantic, Bennington,” Mike teased as he dragged Chester behind him to the computer, and a few clicks later their newly labeled vocal track was hidden away, stored for their ears only.

Chester stood behind the desk chair, running his fingers through Mike’s hair and down his neck as he watched the clicks and drags of the mouse on the computer screen, impressed as always at Mike’s vast knowledge of Pro Tools. “You’re so good with all of this, love,” he said with pride in his voice. Long ago, Chester had concluded that Mike was good at everything, and the only thing that kept him from being completely insufferable was the fact that he was incredibly humble and hard working. It was the number one quality that had attracted him to Mike all those years ago. 

As he finished up, Mike swiveled around in the chair and wrapped his arms around Chester’s waist. With bright eyes, he smiled up at his fiance. “You were right, Ches, about this house. It feels like home. Even without furniture, without floors and with walls torn out, this feels like home, and it’s because of you. I’m building this with you, and we already have memories here together… and it’s so strange and exciting to link those memories from before with everything new that lies ahead of us… it almost feels like it’s always been our home, Ches. It sounds so weird, but that’s how I feel. Like I’m home, with you.”

“Welcome home,” Chester said simply, bending down to kiss him gently once more.


	55. Tease

The distant rumble of thunder was the sound Mike woke up to on moving day.

_Fuck. It’s raining. What are the chances it would actually rain on the day we are moving? It never fucking rains._

He slowly became aware of his surroundings, the coolness of the sheets all around, and realized that Chester had managed, as usual, to roll away from him at some point in the night, taking most of the duvet with him to the other side of the bed. Mike turned over on his other side, inching his way across the empty bed between them until he was flush against Chester’s back, wrapping one arm around his waist and tucking the other up under his pillow. 

The thunder was getting closer, which only made Mike feel optimistic. If it was moving quickly, they wouldn’t have any problems getting their meager belongings to the house. _Our house._ After the first time they’d been in the house after the renovations started, Mike had never thought of it as his house anymore, but simply their house, the home they would be sharing. Every time he thought of it as belonging to the both of them his heart squeezed a little in his chest. They were so close, mere weeks from the finalization of both divorces and a new life together. It was so close Mike could practically taste the freedom on his tongue. 

He felt Chester sigh in his sleep and Mike nuzzled his face into Chester’s hair, breathing in his scent, appreciating that he was able to wake up every morning next to the beautiful man he called his fiance. Almost always it was Mike who awakened first, and he cherished the warm, quiet moments next to Chester, alone with his thoughts, his dreams of the future, his all-consuming love. He had never thought he would be ready to stop touring, but suddenly, in these quiet moments before Chester awoke, he’d found himself thinking about the end of their public careers more and more often. He wasn’t ready quite yet, but for the first time, being away from the road life didn’t mean he’d be away from Chester, and therefore the idea was more palatable. It was amusing how that simple realization had changed him, and the thought of retiring had wedged its way into a corner of his mind. 

Chester’s sleepy voice brought him out of his reverie. “Mornin’, love,” he mumbled, covering the hand Mike had placed on his stomach with his own. “Sounds like rain.”

“Mmm-hmm,” Mike answered, “it seems like it’s moving fast.”

“We should live somewhere where there’s thunderstorms. I love the sound of rain when I’m sleeping,” Chester said, his body still relaxed and warm next to Mike.

They lay together for a while, listening to the rain and thunder, before Chester suddenly tensed and announced, “fuck. It’s moving day.”

Mike laughed the low, throaty laugh that was reserved for Chester as his lover twisted around in his arms. “Yep. Can you believe it’s raining? It never rains.” 

“It’s going to have to stop that. I don’t want my shoes to get wet.” Just a few inches from Mike’s face, Chester’s eyes were seriously concerned.

“It will be fine, Chester,” Mike soothed before placing a gentle kiss to his frowning lips. “I’m sure it will move out quick. You’re worrying over nothing.”

“Well, we’re supposed to take Bourdie out tonight, too, you know. And I _hate_ driving in the rain.”

Mike could only roll his eyes. “Ches, it’s not gonna rain for twelve hours. Come on, relax.” He smoothed his hands lightly down the front of Chester’s body, and watched as the vocalist calmed under his touch. “Seriously. It will be fine. See? Listen. It already sounds like it’s letting up some.”

Cocking his ear toward the window, Chester tried to hear what Mike was hearing. “Sounds the same to me,” he grumbled, and Mike laughed again, squeezing Chester’s sides under his long fingers. “Ah, stop, Mikey, don’t tickle me, it’s too early!”

It reminded Mike of the morning they’d woken in Birmingham last summer, when Chester had tickled him ruthlessly, when he’d first learned of his sleep talking, and when he’d first started to realize that there could be more than friendship between himself and Chester. His smile was wide as he dug his fingers into the tender flesh one more time before releasing the squirmy, wide awake vocalist. “That’s payback for last summer,” he joked, sliding out from under the sheets to Chester’s dismay.

“Last summer! You can’t wait that long for revenge, Mike, there’s a statute of limitations, or something like that!” Chester was indignant.

The smell of bacon wafted upstairs and Mike pulled his robe on, deeply inhaling the bacon-scented air. “There’s no statute, you whiner, and it smells like Rob’s got bacon going. I don’t know about you, but I’m going downstairs.” He walked right out of the bedroom, leaving Chester open mouthed on the bed.

Scrambling for his pajama bottoms, Chester called out for Mike, “wait! Don’t leave me!” while he forced his legs into his pants, fumbling his glasses onto his nose as he stumbled into the hall, right into Mike’s waiting arms. 

“Not gonna leave you, Ches, not now, not ever,” he breathed, hugging his fiance close to his body. “I just woke up in a fantastic mood. We’re moving to our house today, and I am past excited.” He grinned into Chester’s eyes and was delighted that his enthusiasm was reflected in Chester’s expression. 

“It’s gonna be fuckin’ awesome,” Chester agreed as they made their way downstairs, where Rob stood behind the gas stove, absently poking at bacon, his plaid robe tied over striped pajamas. It was too much pattern for Chester’s sleepy morning eyes. “Plaid or stripes, Bourdie, not both,” he teased, pulling on the tie around Rob’s waist as he passed by to start coffee.

Rob blushed as the front of his robe fell open, revealing his bare chest.

“Woo-hoo, Bourdie, lookin’ good!” Mike exclaimed, his euphoric mood not dampened in the slightest when Rob threatened to throw the bacon in the garbage if they didn’t behave themselves. “Nah, you wouldn’t do that, you know how much I love it,” he said as he stole a piece off the paper towel next to the stove, leaning against the bar and savoring the salty goodness. “It’s your last morning to cook us bacon, Bourdie,” Mike added.

A flash of something passed over Rob’s face, and neither Mike nor Chester missed the fleeting emotion. It looked a lot like sadness. “Yeah, I’ll miss the house smelling all day like something I don’t eat,” he said distractedly, taking the last of the bacon out of the grease and laying it on the paper towel to cool. “Seems like you both are excited this morning.”

“If this rain will go, then, yeah, I’m excited,” Chester fussed, looking out the window as he poured water over the coffee grounds. 

“He’s worrying about his shoes.” Mike rolled his eyes with a smile, taking another piece of bacon as Chester set a cup of steaming hot coffee in front of him. 

“I think I see the sun poking out over there to the west.” Chester looked through the back window at the sky. “It looks like you were right, Shinoda. Fast moving.”

Mike gave Chester a smirk that said, ‘of course I’m right’ before he walked his coffee cup over to the table and sat down. “Bourdie, you gonna come by the house tonight and check it out, or are you just going to meet us at the club?” The look of astonishment on Rob’s face was too much for Mike to keep his solemn expression. He broke out into his Shinoda grin as Rob fumbled for words. “We’re just kidding, man. About the club anyway.”

“ _I_ thought we should go clubbing,” Chester interjected.

“Chester, you know there is no way we could go clubbing. First off, we’re too old for that scene. And secondly, I think you’re a little too recognizable,” Mike reasoned, looking at the pouting vocalist. 

“Aren’t we just doing dinner with the guys?” Rob asked quietly.

Mike nodded his head. “Yeah, we’ve got furniture being delivered this morning and I’m sure that will take a few hours, but after that we should be good for dinner. Whatever you want, Bourdie, you get to choose.”

“That’s right!” Chester exclaimed, exuberance returning. “We’re treating you, so choose wisely.”

“Don’t worry, I’ll be sure to maximize my returns.” Rob smiled an easy smile, glancing between Mike and Chester, trying hard not to think about returning home to an empty house that evening. 

The bacon was gone in record time as Rob read his newspaper and ate his oatmeal, listening to Mike and Chester’s excited banter and contributing to the conversation every few minutes. Breakfast was relaxed, and they lingered, enjoying the conversation and each other’s company. Mike didn’t realize the time until Rob looked at him and mentioned, “I thought you had a delivery scheduled this morning?”

Glancing at his watch, Mike stood up from the table hastily. “Ches, we need to get dressed. We’re going to be late to the house, I don’t want the delivery people to be waiting on us.”

Rob flicked the corner of his newspaper back up and continued reading as his two houseguests rushed around, trying to get presentable enough to leave the house. He knew he’d miss having them around, but he was trying hard not to show it, at least not this morning. 

By the time Mike and Chester arrived at their new home with two cars full of assorted small items, it was only fifteen minutes until the furniture was scheduled to be delivered. Mike unlocked the front door and could tell the housekeeper had already been at work. The floors were spotless and the house smelled like cleaner, which wasn’t necessarily a bad smell-- but it didn’t smell like home, not yet. He and Chester walked around, opening windows, airing out the place a bit, taking each opportunity they passed each other to reach out for a caress or a kiss, excited smiles passing between them.

They didn’t even get a chance to congratulate each other on move in day before the delivery guys were there, slipping on their shoe covers and bringing piece after piece of brand new furniture into the house. The next several hours were spent supervising the placement of furniture, watching the careful exposure of each piece as paper wrappings were stripped away, and Mike walked the hallways, poking his head into each room to check the progress. It was one of the few days that Mike felt his celebrity status. Most of his days passed as normal as he could make them, but most of the world was financially unable to outfit an entire house with brand new furniture all in one day, and his good fortune to be part of Linkin Park was not lost on him at the moment. It also wasn’t lost on the six guys delivering their furniture, who were exceedingly polite, knowing that if they did a good job there would be a substantial tip in their future. 

Chester had forbidden him to look inside the master suite as the furniture was being placed and the four poster bed assembled. He was determined that Mike would walk into a sanctuary, a room so different from what he’d shared with Anna that there would never be another question as to whether he could continue to live in the house. Their housekeeper had left freshly laundered bedding ready for Chester to make up the bed once it was assembled, and he was anxious to bring Mike into the room for the first time. 

Mike had just finished signing paperwork for the deliveries when Chester bounded down the stairs, coming to a halt in the foyer as Mike closed the door, turning to Chester and smiling.

“Are you ready?” Mike asked, his face bright with anticipation.

“Let’s walk the downstairs first,” Chester suggested. “Last room should be the bedroom.”

“Chester,” Mike warned, “you know we don’t have time for anything before we go to dinner. We don’t want to keep the guys waiting. Joe already texted that he was starving.”

“Oh, don’t worry. I’ll be sure we get there on time,” Chester promised, reaching for Mike’s hand. “Show me the den.”

They walked hand in hand through their house, admiring the new sofas and the dark wood tables Mike had chosen to complement them, the new barstools in the kitchen and the new dining set in the formal dining area. Their housekeeper had been hard at work setting up the kitchen, and as they opened cabinets and drawers they discovered all of the newly purchased items had been washed and put away, organized logically. She’d even taken their list and gone to the grocery store, stocking the pantry and refrigerator.

“It must have taken days for her to get this done,” Chester murmured, and Mike nodded.

“Denise is awesome, Ches. When it’s a big job her daughter comes to help. Don’t worry… I definitely paid her extra for this whole fiasco.”

Chester nodded his head in approval as Mike flipped off the light switch and they headed upstairs. The kids rooms and their furniture all looked great, the beds ready to be made when Denise returned the next day. Even though nothing had changed, they peeked into the media room before Chester turned to Mike, taking both hands in his own, his face serious.

“Mikey… I know this has been hard for you, and I want you to know, even though we’ve done all this work, if you don’t _absolutely, without a doubt_ love our bedroom, we will move anywhere. I want you to be comfortable here, with me. And I want this to be a surprise… so… close your eyes.”

Mike hesitated before following Chester’s request. “Ches… you’ve been so amazing through all of this… worrying about _me_ when I feel like _I_ should be worrying about _you_.”

Smiling, Chester dismissed Mike’s worries with a shake of his head. “I’ve always loved this house, Mike, and the memories we have here. Now we’ll have new memories, as long as this is okay with you. Come on, close your eyes.” 

With a timid smile, Mike closed his eyes and allowed Chester to lead him into the master suite. Even before he looked at the room, the atmosphere was different somehow. Perhaps it was the smell of the room, masculine with a hint of Chester’s lavender wafting off his body. Whatever it was, Mike felt at peace before he even opened his eyes. “Well?” he asked, squeezing Chester’s hands that were still in his.

He felt Chester let go of his hands and slide his tattooed arm around Mike’s waist. With a happy sigh, he whispered into Mike’s ear, “open your eyes, love.”

Taking a deep breath, Mike opened his eyes to the wonder that was their new master suite. In front of him was the giant four poster bed Chester had fallen in love with, the bed already made up with crisp white sheets and a dark gray duvet over a down comforter, six fluffy bed pillows strewn against the headboard, nightstands and lamps at the sides of the bed. It was darkness and light, and beautiful as Mike looked over the expanse of the room, the reading area they’d created with two overstuffed chairs and a long ottoman to share, the bare windows letting in all of the sunlight. Glancing back at the bed, he felt a stirring in his jeans, his dick coming to life as he imagined everything that would transpire in this room. He couldn’t wait to get Chester on that bed.

“Wow. I really, really love it, Ches!” Mike was impressed that there was absolutely no connection from the room he was gazing at to the room it had been in the past, and he was grateful. He turned and planted a kiss on Chester’s temple, smiling widely. “Show me the bathroom?”

Dragging him into the en suite, Chester chatted away about the benefits of multiple shower heads while Mike gazed at him, distracted by the way Chester’s lips moved, the way his hips moved, and the fact that he had to sit through dinner with the guys before they would be free to spend their first night together at home. A few minutes into Mike’s dirty thoughts, Chester read his mind, a slow, sexy smile spreading over his face. “You’re thinking about the bed, aren’t you?”

Mike felt his cheeks flush. “How’d you know?” he asked, fluttering his eyelashes innocently at his fiance, causing a fit of laughter from him.

“You haven’t heard anything I’ve said,” Chester laughed before he leaned into Mike, rubbing his hands over Mike’s back and slipping his hands into Mike’s jeans pockets, pulling him hard against his body. “And there’s the matter of… that,” he said, pulling Mike’s erection into him and eliciting a gasp from the emcee. “You weren’t exactly hiding it,” he teased.

“Damn,” Mike breathed, his heart racing. “We’re going to have to get out of here before I just say fuck it and throw you up on that bed and have my way with you.” He reached to cup Chester’s face in both hands, bringing the vocalist’s soft lips against his urgently. Without hesitation Chester’s lips parted, welcoming Mike’s warm, wet tongue into his mouth, moaning at the contact.

They stood in the bathroom, pressed hard against each other, tasting each other, Mike exercising considerable restraint to not strip off every article of Chester’s clothing right then and there, until Mike’s phone vibrated in his front pocket, causing Chester to pull away laughing. “Oooh, Mikey, that felt naughty!”

Grinning, Mike reached for the phone, taking a calming breath before he answered. Eyes on Chester, he swatted playfully at the round ass in front of him, connecting with the firm muscle and causing Chester to scoot forward away from his hand. They flirted with their eyes as Mike agreed to meet the guys at a Chinese restaurant Rob loved for dinner. By the time he hung up the phone, Chester had unbuttoned his own shirt and was running his hands over his bare chest, pinching at his nipples and teasing Mike relentlessly, his head thrown back, his neck exposed.

Mike grabbed him around the waist, latching his lips onto Chester’s sexy neck, sucking a round pink spot onto the flesh there as the vocalist protested.

“Don’t give me a hickey before dinner, stop!” Chester’s laughter was contagious.

Mike grinned as he bit down on Chester’s neck, pushing him up against the new countertop, feeling Chester slide his ass up onto the surface and lock his legs around his waist. Immediately the smile dropped from his face as he leaned in, pressing hard against Chester, kissing up his neck and then dipping his tongue into his ear, breathing hot air into the canal. He felt Chester shiver underneath his touches. “Mmm, you like that, don’t you, love? You want me to hold you down tonight? The first night in our house and you want it rough, don’t you?” The throbbing in his pants was unbearable as he pressed forward, feeling Chester’s erection pressing back against him.

“Ah, yes…” Chester breathed, trying to capture Mike’s lips with his own, disappointed as Mike pulled away with a glint in his eyes. 

“C’mon, you,” Mike mumbled as he grabbed Chester’s wrists, pulling him off the counter and back into his body, both of them painfully hard against their jeans. “And no pouting. That’s what you get for teasing me while I was on the phone. All this is going to have to wait until after dinner. It’s time to go.”

Chester liked it when Mike played these game with him. Tracing the tip of his tongue over his bottom lip, he buttoned his shirt back up and looked at Mike though his lashes. “You owe me, Shinoda. I seem to remember something about tying me up on that bed out there.”

Without a moment’s hesitation, Mike responded with a wink, “don’t you worry, Ches… I’ve had a plan in my head for weeks. You won’t be disappointed.”

With that promise, Mike stalked out of the bathroom, Chester following behind him with a whimper of anticipation.


	56. Tech

“This toast is for the greatest friend ever, who let us crash his house and his life the past six months, and hasn’t complained one time-- at least that we know of... Bourdie, thank you for being so fuckin’ awesome!” 

Six glasses clinked together in the center of the long table as Chester grinned at the group, his four bandmates and his fiance sitting together, waiting for their Chinese dishes to be brought to them from the kitchen. Not only were they celebrating Mike and Chester’s move into their own home, the six bandmates were celebrating Rob’s ability to put up with the couple for as long as he had. 

“You’d think that would be worthy of something more upscale than Chinese food,” Brad said wryly, a hint of humor in his voice. “I know if I had to put up with you two for that long we’d be in a five star restaurant right now, opening our third bottle of champagne.”

“Don’t blame us,” Mike stated firmly. “We told Bourdie to pick whatever he wanted, and we ended up at this hole in the wall.” He glanced around at the restaurant they’d frequented over the years, despite its shabby exterior and questionable decor. It was hands down their favorite Chinese place, and it was exactly what Rob wanted this particular evening. Tasty, and quick.

So far that evening, Dave had been in observation mode, and it did not escape him that Rob had seemed distracted, almost anxious, and faintly excited since they’d all arrived at the restaurant. “If I didn’t know better, I’d say you’re happy to see them go,” he commented in Rob’s general direction, watching closely for a reaction from the drummer.

“Well, it will be quieter, that’s for sure,” Rob deadpanned, and Joe burst out laughing as Mike’s ears turned pink in embarrassment.

“You _told_ them?” he exclaimed, completely embarrassed, despite Chester’s obvious amusement. He felt his fiance’s hand slide up his thigh and immediately plunged his hand under the table, stopping the ascent of the wandering hand before it reached his crotch. _It is too early in the evening to start this game. Damnit, he’s already turning me on again._

The quick movement Mike made to stop Chester was not lost on Joe. “Chester, you can’t give him a handjob before we even get our entrees.”

With a huff of indignation, Chester dismissed him. “Feel free to look under the table, Hahn, you’ll find I’m doing nothing of the sort. Not yet, anyway.” Chester winked at the deejay and Joe made a move that appeared as though he was indeed about to check underneath the table before Brad smacked him on the arm.

“Leave them alone,” Brad said, narrowing his eyes at Joe. “I swear, you are such a pervert.”

Joe shrugged, making no apologies as the waitress appeared with their steaming dishes. “Curious might be a better word. I mean, I’ve never had such a close friendship with two gay guys before. You can’t blame me for wanting to know what that’s like, I mean… hasn’t everyone fantasized about Chester?” 

Chester grinned at his bandmates and wiggled his eyebrows while Mike frowned territorially at Joe, and Rob choked on his water at that exact same moment, his face a dark shade of red as all eyes turned toward the drummer.

“Bisexual,” Mike corrected at the same time Dave asked, “you okay, Bourdie?”

Nodding his head, Rob was thankful for the excuse of swallowing his water the wrong way to cover the deep blush he’d felt creep over him. Joe’s words made the memory of watching Mike make love to Chester through the crack in their bedroom door come rushing back, and he wasn’t going to talk about how that had made him think… and feel… not anytime soon, anyway.

“You’re still holding on to ‘bisexual’?” Brad asked as he took a bite of his noodles, glancing quickly at Rob to be sure he was still breathing before he interrogated Mike.

Mike rolled his eyes. “I can’t believe we’re talking about this over dinner,” he complained, spearing a dumpling. “I don’t ask you details about your sex lives,” he pouted before he took a bite.

“Aw, Mikey, they’re just jealous you’ve got something they don’t,” Chester soothed, still grinning as he finished, “ _me_.”

Everyone at the table groaned, and Dave ended the conversation there, claiming that nobody else at the table wanted Chester, despite his years of attacking them on stage and in the dressing room and everywhere else with his ramped up, sweaty body. It was Chester’s turn to pout as everyone but Mike agreed that they could all live without his sexual shenanigans.

They continued to harass each other over the course of the meal, making good on the time the six of them were spending together, laughing and talking and teasing each other mercilessly. Before long the plates were empty and Mike and Joe were deep into a discussion about whether there should be dessert, and if so, what kind, when Rob’s phone lit up with a text message. His wide hand shot out to cover the screen quickly, picking up the phone before anyone could see who had texted.

Everyone watched with interest as Rob glanced down at his phone, a glow touching his cheeks as his lips tipped up in a smile. Distracted, he thumbed a quick text as his bandmates looked around the table, the unspoken question passed among them, eyebrows raised… who was their drummer texting? All of the people sitting around the table were the only people important enough for Rob to text in the middle of an existing conversation. 

He looked up and flushed immediately, realizing five pairs of eyes were on him, watching as he turned his phone face down on the table and scooted it under the edge of his plate. “Why are you all looking at me?”

“Um, because you’re smiling at your phone and hiding it from us, so clearly, something’s up.” Joe pointed at the upside down phone and raised his eyebrows at the drummer. “You never put your phone face down, Bourdie. Who’s texting you? Because it’s not one of us.”

Rob’s cheeks turned a darker shade of red and his long fingers pushed his glasses up his nose and then ran through his hair as he tried not to smile. “Well… it’s, ahhh… it’s Josh.”

There was silence as the five tried to process that admission. The realization of whom Rob was speaking dawned on Dave before anyone else. “Josh? Your tech, Josh?”

Chester’s face broke out into a smug grin and he squeezed Mike’s hand under the table. “It’s him, right?”

As Rob nodded a smile played around his eyes. “Yeah, it’s that Josh.” He looked down at his phone, tapping a quiet rhythm on the back of the case. “We’re ahhh… we’re meeting up after dinner.” Everyone was suddenly quiet, the implication settling between them.

Of course, it was Joe that commented first. His eyes glittered with excitement as he asked, “Meeting up? You mean, like… a date?”

Brad’s mouth dropped open slightly as he looked at Rob, the rest of his face expressionless while Mike squeezed Chester’s hand in return and they glanced at each other knowingly. Rob cleared his throat and looked over at Chester, measuring his words before he chose Dave’s kind eyes to look toward. “Well… we’re meeting for a drink.” 

Despite his inability to consume alcohol in a casual social setting, Chester smacked his free hand down on the table and cried, “good for you, Bourdie!” In his excitement, he leaned over and kissed Mike full on the lips and they smiled at each other, the world narrowing to only the two of them as they shared their thoughts with each other.

_Bourdie’s got a date, can you believe it?_

_I always thought Josh looked at him that way, Ches._

_Josh is kind of young, don’t you think?_

_Nah, they’ll be fine._

_I think we inspired him, Mikey._

_I hope we did._

“I think it’s great, man,” Dave was saying when Mike and Chester came back to the conversation taking place around them.

“It’s just drinks, you guys,” Rob said quietly, but there was a spark of hope in his eyes that was not lost on his bandmates. 

“And… how many times have you had ‘just drinks’?” Joe asked, wiggling his fingers out in front of him for the air quotations. 

Suddenly Mike realized that there had been at least two nights in the past week that Rob had been away from the house, nights in which he and Chester had taken full advantage, both of them delighted that the vocalist didn’t have to stay quiet. Mike looked at Rob incredulously. “ _That’s_ where you’ve been? With Josh?” He wasn’t accusatory and his tone wasn’t confrontational, but Rob still ducked his head.

“I didn’t want to say anything. Not yet, anyway.” Rob picked at his phone case, avoiding everyone’s eyes.

“Well, we don’t want you to be late,” Chester said, lightly dragging his fingertips down Mike’s arm, watching as the emcee drew in a quick breath and glanced at his watch. It was early, Chester knew, but Mike had made him a promise, and he was anxious to return home. 

On cue, Joe stood up and grabbed his phone, and the others followed, pocketing phones and checking for wallets, saying their goodbyes with conspiratorial smiles. Rob was actually the first one out the door, leaving the five remaining bandmates to look at each other in astonishment.

“Did you have any idea?” Dave asked, looking at Mike.

“Well, no, not really. I mean, he and Josh have always gotten along well, and I noticed that Josh seemed to have eyes for Bourdie, but… wow. I didn’t know. Ches?” Mike looked at Chester, who was hovering close at his side.

“No idea, but if you think about it, it totally makes sense. I hope it works out,” Chester said sincerely, sliding his arm around Mike’s waist and pulling their bodies together. 

A light bulb seemed to go off over Joe’s head and he looked around at his friends excitedly. “I bet that’s why he’s been so anxious tonight! I bet he’s going to take Josh back to his place!”

“Jesus, Hahn, you _are_ such a perv,” Brad scowled in the deejay’s direction, fluttering a hand in the air between them. “First you were creeping on Mike and Chester, now you want to creep on Bourdie and Josh. Maybe we need to find _you_ a boyfriend.”

“Whoa, whoa, _what_?!” Mike exclaimed for what felt like the hundredth time that evening. “When were you creeping on us, Hahn?!” He felt Chester squeeze his side playfully. 

Dave brushed the whole thing off with finality as Joe denied everything. “He’s always watching you two. Nothing new. I think you’re right, Brad, we need to find Joe a date.” His tone was light and teasing, but of course, the guitarist overreacted. 

Throwing his hands up into the air, Brad cried, “I don’t think I can take anymore of this, next thing you know you’ll be asking me out, Dave!”

“Nah, I don’t think you’d be my type,” Dave teased him, amused at the look of horror on Brad’s face. Laughing, he managed to say, “screwing with you is so much fun! You make it too easy, Delson!”

“Well, as much as I’d like to stay and continue to freak Brad out,” Chester started, “Mike and I have a new home to christen. We’re saying good night,” he added, looking at Mike with a promising smile.

“Aaaannnnd, that’s my cue,” Mike said with a flourish, his hand behind Chester’s head as he drew him in for a kiss. “We’ll see you guys later. Let me know if you hear anything from Rob,” he told Brad, who only nodded as he watched Mike and Chester set off toward their car, Chester whispering in Mike’s ear as his hand traveled down Mike’s backside, Mike’s low giggles reaching the three remaining band members. 

“They’re absolutely adorable,” Dave said as he watched them go, not envious or curious in the slightest, simply happy for his friends. “It’s been a long, long time coming,” he continued, looking meaningfully at Brad.

“Yeah, yeah, I get it.” Brad sighed and ran his hand over his hair. “I’m getting used to it, I swear I’m fine with everything now. Chester and I talked. We’re good. Tonight has just been so… I mean… Bourdie, too?” He looked genuinely perplexed at the thought of their drummer dating a man as well.

Joe and Dave just looked at each other and then back at Brad before Joe shrugged and said, “Josh is a nice looking young piece of arm candy. Makes sense to me.”

With that, the evening was over, the final words spoken as Dave shook his head, grinning wide. “Joe, I think you’re gayer than you realize.”

**********

Mike was having a hard time concentrating on the road as Chester leaned across the space between them, trailing his palms down Mike’s chest and stomach, carefully avoiding contact with the front of his pants. It didn’t matter-- Mike’s jeans had been tight since Chester had said good night to their bandmates at the restaurant. He was so very ready to get Chester in the middle of that four poster bed. He’d been planning it for weeks, ever since Chester had mentioned being tied up in the middle of their new bed, but he wasn’t sure just how far they were ready to venture into the world of bondage. It seemed a little disconcerting to think of rendering Chester completely helpless, and even though Mike was certain that Chester trusted him implicitly, he didn’t know if he really wanted their very first encounter in their new home to be so… aggressive. Dominate. Even though Chester willingly surrendered himself to Mike without hesitation, Mike started to think during the drive home that tonight should be more about being equals, not about who was more submissive at the moment. What message would that send?

He was brought out of his thoughts by Chester’s wandering hands, his lips close to Mike’s ear. “Mikey… tell me… what do you have planned for our first night at home?” Chester asked, his voice slightly desperate sounding to Mike’s ears. He was still undecided just how far he wanted to go tonight, so Mike simply grinned and remained silent, knowing it would drive Chester crazy. 

He was right. “Come on, love, you promised me,” Chester whined, and Mike took a hand off the steering wheel to cover one of Chester’s.

“Stop worrying about it,” he said, his eyes steady on the road. “We’re almost home, and then you’ll know.”

Chester didn’t stop until they pulled into the driveway, his hands scorching trails along Mike’s body, making it hard for Mike to make rational decisions. It was always that way with Chester, rationality be damned. One of the many reasons it was probably a good thing their relationship had not developed back in their more volatile twenties, back when they probably would have flippantly thrown away the band’s entire career to be together as obnoxiously and publicly as possible. It was a damn good thing they had matured in the last twenty years, and a damn good thing Linkin Park was solidly established before they came out. There was a reason for everything.

As Mike followed Chester up the walk to the front door, he felt the sentimentality of the moment overtake him and he pulled at the vocalist’s elbow as he said, “stop, Ches, hang on a minute.” They halted at the threshold of the door, and Chester turned to Mike, his eyes glittering with anticipation in the porch light. “We’re coming home for the first time. _Our first night home_ ,” he said with emphasis. “I don’t want to forget a single moment of this night.” The lust in his expression gave way to tenderness as he traced a fingertip down the side of Chester’s face, crossing over his lips and rubbing gently at his lip ring scar, Mike’s eyes following the movement across his face. 

As he leaned in for a soft kiss, Mike felt Chester’s hands thread into his hair, gently tugging at the black strands, and their lips parted, surrendering access to each other. Somehow the urgency from earlier had been lost and they leaned together, their hearts peaceful as Mike held his fiance close, rubbing his open palms over Chester’s back. _This is real. He’s mine and we’re together and this is real. This house was just another obstacle overcome for us to get closer to making it official, to sealing our bond with marriage._

Mike’s thoughts reminded him of last summer, when Chester kissed him for the first time, and his first thought had been, ‘this is real.’ With reluctance, he pulled away from Chester’s lips, enjoying how they glistened in the porch light, and he repeated the words Chester had said to him in the studio upstairs a little over a week ago. “Welcome home, Ches.” 

Arms linked, they stepped into the house together, discarding shoes inside the door as their hands wandered over each other, hastily making their way upstairs and toward their sanctuary. As soon as they reached the bedroom, Mike placed his hands on Chester’s hips and pulled him in close, his lips hovering behind Chester’s ear. “As much as I want to tell you to choose a safe word,” he murmured, his warm breath causing a shiver down his lover’s spine, “I don’t want this whole night to be about that. We have all the time in the world to explore that side of each other.” Chester turned his face toward Mike, seeking his lips, but Mike was kissing the back of his neck, avoiding contact. “Don’t be disappointed… besides, that’s really more my thing than yours, love.” 

Chester’s eyes were closed, savoring the sensation of Mike’s warm lips on his skin, but he giggled softly, remembering the time in a far away hotel room that he’d experimentally tied Mike’s hands with pillowcases. “You don’t give up control often, but when you do, you’re all in, Shinoda,” he gasped as Mike’s hands traveled up under his shirt, brushing against his stomach lightly on the way up to pinch at his nipples.

With his lips against Chester’s skin, Mike smiled. “I’ve waited an _eternity_ though dinner to get back to where we were in the the bathroom, with your shirt unbuttoned… you were so naughty, touching yourself while I was on the phone. But I’m not going to take away your ability to touch yourself… or me… tonight.” He listened to the vocalist’s sharp intake of breath as he reacted to Mike’s words, sliding his hands out of the shirt and down those tattooed forearms to grasp Chester’s wrists tightly. Pushing gently, Mike steered him toward the bed before he turned Chester around and fixed him with lustful eyes. “The first thing you’re going to touch is that shirt. Unbutton it,” he commanded, his voice low, soft, and serious.

Their eyes held as Chester slowly worked his way down the buttons of one of his current favorite shirts, a black one with giant flowers in shades of red, and stopped, waiting for his next instruction.

“Just close your eyes,” Mike whispered, reaching to slip the shirt off Chester’s shoulders. Obediently, Chester closed his eyes and stood perfectly still as Mike feathered his fingers across his pale neck, leaning forward to kiss the dip in his collarbone as the shirt dropped to the floor and a thrill zipped through Chester’s body. “Do you remember what you said to me, our first night together?” Mike breathed into his ear, not waiting for a response. “You told me to just feel. I’m not going to tie you up tonight, Chester. Not tonight, not this first night. I want you to feel everything, I want you to make me feel everything, the way we felt it that night. The rest can wait, right?” 

Chester opened his eyes to Mike’s anxious, unsure face and nodded. He understood completely. This wasn’t going to be about sex tonight. It never _really_ was, even when they were rougher with each other, or quicker, or more vertical against a wall than horizontal in their bed. It was never just fucking, and Chester knew and understood deeply why Mike didn’t want to hold him down and have him completely at his mercy tonight. Despite the teasing from earlier, despite the fun plans Mike had made, he wanted Chester to know how much he was cherished tonight. 

Those silk scarves in Mike’s overnight bag would have to wait for another time. Relieved, and with his hands on Chester’s hips, he guided him backwards until his thighs hit the bed. “Sit,” he breathed, and watched as Chester felt behind him with both hands and scooted his butt up onto the bed so that Mike could step forward to stand between his knees. “Take off my shirt,” he directed, watching as Chester tugged the shirt over his head, tossing it to the side, then stroked his slender fingers across Mike’s skin. “Let’s just feel, now, Ches…” He leaned into Chester, pressing his lover back into the mattress as he crawled onto the bed with him.

It was the last words spoken in their new bedroom until they lay in the center of the bed, spent, the pristine white sheets tossed to the side when they had changed positions yet again and moved for Chester to grasp the new headboard, both of them holding on to the dark wood as Mike slowly coaxed their climaxes from them both. In the glorious afterglow they lay, side by side, holding hands and smiling at each other, occasionally stealing a kiss as their pulses slowed and their breathing synchronized again. Their lovemaking was exactly as Mike had desired it to be this first night together in their home- reciprocal, loving, and deeply satisfying. He was right, they had all the time in the world to try new things together, to talk about safe words and how far was too far to go with each other. They didn’t have to conquer all of the new things in one night. 

By the time they’d showered in their giant new shower for two with the front, back, and side shower heads, Mike was exhausted. It had been a long moving day. As they fixed the bedsheets, Mike looked across the bed at Chester, at his beautiful, artfully inked body glowing in the lamplight, at the muscles that rippled under his skin as he moved, at his soft, sensitive eyes behind his trendy glasses… and if it was possible, fell just a little bit farther and a little bit harder for the man he was about to climb in bed with for the first night of an endless future of nights. He slid between the sheets with a content smile and rested his head on his pillow as Chester snuggled an arm and a leg over his body, nuzzling his face on Mike’s bare chest. Sleep was already upon them both as Mike mumbled, “good night, Ches… I love you…” and he felt blissfully relaxed as he heard Chester’s quiet response, “love you, too.”


	57. Dissolution

Mike felt the calming presence of Brad’s hand on his knee before he opened his eyes in the courtroom. 

“You okay?” Brad whispered close to his ear.

Mike could only nod his head, his throat thick with emotion. He had known that today would be hard, but he wasn’t prepared for the flood of sorrow that threatened to drown him as he waited for Shinoda vs. Shinoda to come up on the docket. They were supposed to be third that morning, but he wasn’t certain how reliable the schedule was in this particular family court.

Two months had passed since he had signed the papers allowing Anna to purchase her new home, and Mike had barely spoken to her except for when he was dropping off or picking up the kids. She had managed to make it inside the foyer of his and Chester’s home once two weeks ago, right after they had moved in, her eyes darting anxiously around the space as she collected the children. Now she sat across the aisle from him, her body tense, holding Talinda’s hand.

_Talinda. Why the fuck did she choose Talinda?_

It had been Chester who suggested that they take someone else to the court hearing for their divorces instead of each other. At first Mike had been hurt, but it made sense, the idea that perhaps bringing your current lover the dissolution of your first marriage was probably not the wisest course of action. Ultimately he’d called Brad to ask him to be his support, and Chester had taken Dave along to his divorce last week. Chester hadn’t mentioned Anna being at his hearing, so Mike was completely unprepared for the way he felt upon seeing Anna enter the courtroom with Talinda.

Ashamed. Guilty. Anxious. He was a failure.

They passed by where he and Brad were already sitting without even glancing in their direction and took a seat in the opposite corner near the front. It was making Mike uncomfortable to not be able to have a hat on to shield himself from the casual glances of others sitting in family court. He was never sure how recognizable he was at this point in his life, and in this type of setting, but the thought of someone, anyone, recognizing him made his stomach hurt.

_This is what I want. I know without a doubt that Chester is my future. Anna is my past. Why is this so hard, then? Why do I feel so sick? I never wanted to hurt her. She was always good to me, better than I ended up deserving. I wish I could tell her again how sorry I am. We haven’t talked much since she moved. I had so much hope after how well the holidays went, but it seems like we’ve gone backwards. Maybe she just needs some more space and time. And Talinda… Jesus… I feel like such an asshole sitting here._

Brad squeezed his knee before removing his hand, and Mike let out a quiet sigh, looking away from Anna and Talinda and focusing his attention on the back of the seat in front of him. He didn’t want to look around, didn’t want to listen to reasons why the people in the courtroom were appearing there today. There was an assortment of sorrows; divorces, domestic violence, deadbeat parents, custody disagreements. Mike was grateful that they were third on the docket, and hopeful that the two cases in front of theirs would be quick. He wanted to be home. He wanted to fall into Chester’s arms and cry.

“Good morning, Mr. Shinoda.”

Mike looked up to see Mr. Boyd standing in the aisle, his briefcase in hand. “Good morning,” he replied, standing to shake the man’s hand. “This is my friend, Brad Delson,” he explained as his lawyer looked at Brad curiously. 

“Mr. Boyd.” Brad nodded curtly as he extended his hand.

“Pleased to meet you,” Boyd responded before returning his attention to Mike. “Looks like this will be fairly quick this morning. Your case is third, and all of the documents are in order and signed by you and Mrs. Shinoda. I’ve already spoken with the clerk. So long as both you and Mrs. Shinoda agree in front of the judge that there is no chance of reconciliation, and that you have read and agree to the settlement, the judge will sign off on the dissolution, and you will be officially divorced.”

Mike closed his eyes and took another deep breath. _Why is this so hard? I’m certain, completely certain this is what I want. I shouldn’t be sad, I should be excited. I shouldn’t be mourning the end of my marriage any more. I shouldn’t worry that Anna won’t agree to everything. There’s no reason not to. Why am I so nervous?_ He nodded his head again for Boyd’s benefit, and reached his hand for Brad’s as the lawyer sat on the other side of him. He felt the calloused fingers close around his and Mike squeezed, seeking comfort. When he looked at Brad he saw sympathy and understanding in his eyes.

“It’s okay, Mike. It’s okay to be anxious,” Brad whispered. “It’s okay to be sad. Twenty years is a long time.”

“Half my life I’ve spent with her,” Mike whispered back, pain evident in his voice.

“And half your life has been spent with Chester,” Brad reminded him gently. “You want to be with him, Mike, and that is okay. Stop beating yourself up over this. It’s done. Anna will be okay.” He squeezed Mike’s hand tightly and the emcee smiled at him gratefully.

“Thanks, Brad.”

There was only silence between them as they waited, Mike staring at the back of Anna’s head, the curve of her white neck and the curl of the brown hair tucked behind her ear. He thought about when they met; before they had kids and she’d come on tour; vacations; Christmases; happiness and loss, trials and fights; twenty years of memories; and realized that, in most of those memories- save those of Anna with the children- Chester was there. Chester had always been there. Mike looked at Talinda’s long dark hair falling below her shoulders next to Anna and wondered how she was doing with everything, with losing Chester. Losing Chester would kill him. How was she able to go on without him?

“The court would like to bring forward Michael Kenji Shinoda and representation, as well as Anna Hillinger Shinoda and representation, at this time,” the clerk announced, bringing Mike out of his thoughts abruptly.

Mike’s stomach lurched as he stood, catching Brad’s eyes as he mouthed, “you’ve got this,” a phrase he’d read on Brad’s lips hundreds of times in pre-show huddles. In a daze he followed Mr. Boyd to the front and stood in front of the judge, Anna and her lawyer to his right. He stayed focused on the judge, not daring to glance at Anna as the judge looked over their paperwork. Because their estate was substantial, the document was over one hundred pages, and Mike started to feel lightheaded the longer they stood at the bench, and he finally gave up at stole a glance at Anna.

Her face was stoic but her skin was pale, and she looked as sick as he felt. _I’m sorry, Anna, I truly am… I never meant for it to end this way._

“Mr. Shinoda?” the judge wanted Mike’s attention. His eyes snapped back to the woman behind the bench.

“Yes, Your Honor?” MIke responded. He wasn’t sure if he’d been asked a question or not. He was relieved when the judge proceeded with her question.

“Mr. Boyd? You have reviewed the agreement with your client and you both agree that he has signed this settlement of his own free will?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” both Mike and his lawyer replied.

“Mrs. Shinoda? Mrs. Gonzalez? You have reviewed the agreement with your client and you both agree that she has signed this settlement of her own free will?”

“Yes, Your Honor,” Anna responded. Then her lawyer spoke up,.

“Your Honor, we do have one last minute revision we would like to request. I don’t think Mr. Shinoda would have an objection. May I?” 

Patricia Gonzalez was authoritative, and Mike didn’t like her tone, or the fact that she was waiting until the moment it was all going to be over to request a change.

“Proceed, Mrs. Gonzalez,” the judge said.

“Mrs. Shinoda would like to amend page ninety-eight to reflect the return to her maiden name, Hillinger, upon dissolution of the marriage.”

Mike’s head snapped over to Anna’s, searching her face. _She never said she wanted to do that. I wonder why she changed her mind. What about the children?_

Judge Pineda looked at Mike. “Mr. Shinoda, I find that to be a reasonable request. Do you have any objection to the amendment?”

Anna finally looked over at Mike, a serene expression in her eyes. She had clearly made the decision and Mike would never dream of standing in the way, not after what he’d done. She wanted to be finished with him, she wanted to fade into anonymity, she no longer wanted to be Anna Shinoda, and Mike couldn’t blame her. Holding her eyes, Mike responded quietly, “no, Your Honor. I have no objections.”

“Very well,” the judge said, passing the page to the clerk to have Anna and Mike sign the change. “Mr. Shinoda, Mrs. Shinoda. You must agree that there is no chance of reconciliation before I can grant your divorce. Mr. Shinoda? Do you agree that you have exhausted all avenues of reconciliation, and there is no reasonable hope that a reconciliation can occur?”

Another deep breath, and Mike answered softly, “yes, Your Honor. There will be no reconciliation.”

“Mrs. Shinoda, do you agree that you have exhausted all avenues of reconciliation, and there is no reasonable hope that a reconciliation can occur?”

“Yes, Your Honor. There will be no reconciliation,” Anna confirmed in a confident voice.

“By the power vested in me by the State of California, I hereby dissolve the marriage between Michael Kenji Shinoda and Anna Hillinger Shinoda. Counsel, you may pick up certified copies from the clerk’s office inside of the hour. The case is dismissed.” The judge slid Mike and Anna’s file across the bench to the clerk, and it was over. Just like that. Twenty years, condensed to one hundred pages of carefully articulated agreements.

Mike stood for a moment, blinking back tears. He didn’t know if he felt sorrow or relief, but he was stunned immovable until he felt his lawyer’s hand at his elbow, turning him away from the bench. Anna was already down the aisle with Talinda and her lawyer before Brad met them in the aisle, his face long.

“You okay?” Brad asked, hurriedly matching his stride to the emcee's as Mike walked past him.

Mike nodded, his eyes on the floor. _I put all this in motion, this is all me. All me._ His vision wasn’t exactly clear as he stepped out of the courtroom, the heavy door closing behind them, but his eyes landed on Anna and Talinda and their embrace in the hallway. 

“It’s over now,” Talinda was soothing, her hands on Anna’s back, when her eyes met Mike’s. The little crease between her eyes told him something was amiss, and then he noticed Anna’s shoulders shuddering.

 _She’s crying._ Mike felt the air knocked from his lungs as he realized his now ex-wife was standing mere feet away, crying despite her confidence in front of the judge moments ago. Suddenly it made sense why she chose Talinda. Only Talinda knew how deeply this cut. As Mike took a step toward them he felt Brad’s hand on his arm and turned to his friend, who shook his head.

“Leave them,” Brad said, pulling Mike down the hallway in the other direction. They made their way through the hallways to the records room, where Mike’s lawyer was on the phone as he waited for the certified copies of the papers that had just been signed in the courtroom. Brad led Mike to a bench by the window and they sat down side by side, Mike gazing out at the fair spring day, the sunshine and birds and all of the happy things that only made the unhappiness in his heart heavier. Brad waited for a while, then finally asked, “do you want to talk about it?”

Turning away from the window, Mike looked at Brad with sad, red eyes. “I hate that I’ve made her cry. She deserved better from me, Brad.” His forehead creased with disgust as he reflected on himself. “I could have handled this whole thing better... with Anna, with you guys, even with Chester.” He looked away again, out the window. “I love him so much, Brad. I don’t think I could ever get you to understand how much I love him. I don’t regret loving him for a single second, but I do regret the pain I’ve put her through. I should have done better.”

“I know how much you love him, Mike. We all do. There’s no way the Mike Shinoda I’ve known most of my life would have uprooted his entire existence if that love wasn’t the single most compelling thing in his life. I know it really has to be something for you to go through everything you’ve been through the past eight months, because you are not one to hurt or disappoint the people who love you. It’s been hard on everyone, Mike, and especially you and Chester, but today is about starting over, starting fresh. I’m with you, the guys are with you, and Chester is with you. You’re going to be okay.” 

After a moment of consideration, Mike smiled a tentative smile at Brad. “Thanks, man. I’m so glad you came with me today. And I’m grateful you’ve forgiven us.” He looked at the floor as spoke the last words, missing Anna and Talinda making their way into the same hallway to wait on Anna’s copy of the paperwork. 

“You’re my best friend. Of course I forgive you,” Brad said quietly.

They sat in silence again, Mike staring out the window, until Anna got up to use the restroom and Talinda made her way over to stand in front of the pair. Mike looked at her, startled, when she stepped into his peripheral vision. “Talinda? I didn’t know you guys were down here.”

Talinda nodded her head toward the other side of the hallway. “We’ve been sitting over there. Anna went to the restroom, I just wanted to come and see how you were doing.” Her eyes were kind and the first thought Mike had was how he didn’t deserve her compassion.

“I’m… I’ll be okay,” Mike said, looking at Brad.

Biting her bottom lip, Talinda nodded, then asked, “how’s Chester?”

The mention of Chester brought a smile to Mike’s face. “He’s going to be okay, too. What about you, Tal?”

Talinda waved her hand in the air and looked away. “Fine, I’ll be fine. It’s good to have this all behind us so we can move on. I want us all to be friends, Mike. We’ve all been friends for so long. I miss you.”

Mike stood up and wrapped his arms around Talinda’s shoulders, pulling her in for a hug. “You’re such a good person… I don’t deserve to have a friend like you… but I’m grateful. I’d like it if we can all move on, too.”

He felt Talinda’s nod against his neck as she hugged him back, her face turned into his skin. “I know you can give him things I couldn’t, and I want him to be happy, more than anything. He deserves it Mike, after all he’s been through. He deserves it.” Her breath was a warm whisper against his ear.

“You’re an amazing woman,” Mike said simply, releasing her from his hug and stepping back as Anna came back from the restroom. He watched her sit down on the bench across the hallway and he asked Talinda, “is she going to be okay?”

Talinda nodded. “Just emotional right now. It’s hard. I was the same way last week. But the closure is good for you both, for all of us.” She stepped back and smiled at Brad. “I hope we can all get together again soon. I’m missing Elisa.”

“I’m sure she’d like that, Tal,” Brad responded as Mike’s lawyer walked up with a manilla envelope.

“I’ll be in touch,” Talinda said as she turned away, walking back to Anna, who was receiving the same package from her lawyer.

“Here you are, Mr. Shinoda,” Boyd said, handing him his copies of the official documents. “If there is anything else I can assist you with, you know how to find me. It has been a pleasure representing you.” They shook hands and Mike thanked his lawyer, and then it was just he and Brad, and the envelope.

He looked down at the envelope in his hands, feeling the weight of the paperwork, the weight of what had happened, the weight of Talinda’s words. _Friends. If only we could all be friends now that this is finished. If only Anna will ever forgive me._

Mike’s eyes skipped over to Anna and Talinda, Talinda’s hand stroking down Anna’s outstretched arm holding the manila envelope away from her body, and at that moment, Anna’s eyes met Mike’s. She looked at him for a few seconds before her lips twisted into a slight smile, and Mike felt relief wash over him. With a small smile back in her direction, Mike turned to Brad.

“It’s over. I’m ready to go home.”

**********

“Ches? Chester, I’m home,” Mike called into the house as he walked into the kitchen. It was strangely quiet as he set his keys on the bar, then his eyes lit on a note left for him in Chester’s elegant scrawl.

_Come upstairs. I’m waiting for you._

Mike smiled and put the note down, setting his phone on top of it and the manilla envelope to the side, the weight of the morning already lifting from his shoulders. He took the stairs two at a time, practically bouncing into the bedroom, but stopped short when Chester was not laying on their bed as he expected. “Ches?” 

“In here, love,” Chester answered from the bathroom.

Curiously, Mike walked toward the bathroom and poked his head inside.

Chester was waiting in their large soaking tub, bubbles piled high and a grin on his face. “I thought you might want to relax,” Chester said, winking at Mike.

Without a second’s hesitation, Mike tossed his suit jacket and the tie he’d already taken off on the countertop and unbuttoned his dress shirt, pulling the tail out of his slacks. The crisp gray shirt fell to the floor and he unbuckled his belt as Chester watched, unbuttoning and unzipping his slacks and dropping them as well. “This looks _exactly_ like what I need right now,” Mike said, reaching behind him and pulling his undershirt off over his head by the neck, left standing just out of Chester’s reach in only his boxers. “This morning _sucked._ ”

Chester nodded and reached a dripping wet arm out of the tub toward Mike. “Come on in, love, it’s nice and warm.”

Shedding his boxers, Mike stepped into the water, sighing with relief as he sat down, his back to Chester’s front, bubbles rippling around him. He felt Chester’s hands, warm from being in the water, slide up his back and begin massaging his muscles, his skin slippery with water and bubbles. “Jesus, Ches, that feels so fucking good.”

“Just relax,” Chester breathed into his ear, his thumbs digging into Mike’s shoulder blades. He worked on the tension there for a while before he moved up Mike’s neck, sliding along the tendons there, loosening him up as he worked. Mike dropped his head forward and giggled under his breath, low and relaxed. “What?” Chester questioned, his voice soft.

“I just love you, you know. You knew exactly what I needed.”

“Of course I did,” Chester responded confidently. “I know you better than I know myself, Mikey. Even though it’s all finished now, it’s still difficult to go through, and I hate that I couldn’t be there for you. I love you, too… and now… now, we’re free to be together, love. It might still hurt a little bit, to let go of the past, but we have each other, finally, and nothing will change that. I’ve committed my life to you, Mike. I’m with you ‘til the end.”

Mike twisted his face around to meet Chester’s, their lips meeting softly as Chester’s hands continued to smooth over Mike’s back. It was warm and tender, uncompromisingly sweet, this kiss, the first kiss of their post-divorce lives, the very first kiss they’d shared in which they were betraying no one. Chester’s lips strayed from Mike’s to kiss his cheek, to nuzzle his nose in Mike’s facial hair before he kissed his ear and down his neck, still working the knots from Mike’s back with deep strokes of his hands.

They stayed there, Chester loving Mike through the touch of his hands, the until the water grew cool, then toweled off and dropped into the bed naked, clinging to each other for warmth, drifting off into a nap as the lunch hour passed them by. They would talk it all out later, all the emotions and feelings from the morning. There was nothing now but warmth and comfort and each other, no reason to leave the bed that afternoon, nothing to do but share the simplicity of their lawfully acquired new freedom. It was the beginning of an entirely new era.


	58. Signature

It was still dark when Mike slid his glasses on and slipped out of the bed, being careful not to wake Chester. He felt along the side of the bed until his eyes adjusted to the lack of light, then found his robe and slipped it on, making his way to the door and shutting it quietly behind him. The goal was to keep Chester from waking up until he was finished. 

It had been almost a week since Mike’s divorce had been finalized, and every day it seemed that his shoulders felt lighter, his footsteps bouncier, and his smile wider than it had been the day before. He was in love, and it no longer mattered who knew. He could shout it from the rooftops and write all over his social media for the press to lose their minds over, if he chose to do so. He could pull Chester to him on the street and kiss him on the lips and not worry if the paparazzi were lurking nearby. It was freeing; it felt like how he imagined flying must feel- liberating, joyful- this feeling of being in love and not being in hiding. Mike’s face hurt from smiling almost non-stop the past six days.

Making his way downstairs, he flipped on the lights in the kitchen and stood there for a moment, waiting for his eyes to adjust. As much as he wanted a cup of coffee before he started his project, he knew the smell of coffee would awaken Chester for sure. It was already going to be challenging enough to not wake him before he was finished.

As quietly as he could manage, he found his mixing bowl and popped the butter in the microwave to melt, combining it with his sugar and milk and checking the temperature before adding the yeast. Mike watched the seconds tick away on his watch for a minute, then added flour and covered the bowl, setting it aside to rise. _One hour. What am I going to do for an hour?_ His eyes fell on a sketchbook he’d left on the breakfast table, and he sat down to pass the hour before his dough was ready. 

Light was just starting to streak the eastern sky when the hour was up, and Mike stretched as he rose from the table and made his way back to the stove where he hoped his dough had risen. It was always a gamble when he used yeast. If his mixture was too hot when he sprinkled the yeast on, the temperature killed the yeast and the dough wouldn’t rise. If it wasn’t warm enough, the yeast wouldn’t activate, and it still wouldn’t rise. He held his breath as he lifted the towel, pleased to see he’d gotten it right.

The rest of the dry ingredients were mixed in, and then he sprinkled the flour out in order to knead the dough until it wasn’t sticky anymore. Then he rolled it into a large rectangle, smeared softened butter over the surface, followed by a healthy sprinkling of brown sugar and cinnamon. The smell was heavenly and they weren’t even in the oven yet. Chester loved cinnamon rolls, dripping in frosting, and Mike was determined to provide the very best in homemade cinnamon rolls on the first birthday Chester would wake up in their bed next to him. He smiled as he thought of carrying fragrant warm cinnamon rolls into their bedroom to wake him. 

They were rolled, cut, and placed in the pan, set aside to rise for thirty more minutes, as Mike combined his cream cheese, vanilla, milk, powdered sugar, and more butter to make the frosting. He dipped a finger into the frosting experimentally, bringing his finger to his nose for a sniff first before his tongue poked out for a taste. _Fuck, that’s good. These are going to be awesome cinnamon rolls. Totally worth the three hours it takes to make these fuckers._

After he popped them in the oven, he sliced strawberries and finally made coffee, savoring the smell of the dark roast Chester was fond of before he took a sip from his mug. The world had woken up in the amount of time it took Mike to make these cinnamon rolls, and the sunlight was streaming in the windows downstairs. It wouldn’t be long before Chester would be stirring in the bed, wondering where Mike was. He hastily placed the hot cinnamon rolls on a tray, along with the bowl of fruit and the mugs of coffee, a sealed envelope with Chester’s name in Mike’s block letters across the front tucked under the plate of frosted bread.

Mike concentrated on carrying the tray level as he climbed the stairs. _I should have made bacon, too. Fuck. Why didn’t I think of that while these were in the oven?_

He pushed open their bedroom door quietly and walked in, relieved to find Chester in the same position he’d been in when he left to start breakfast three hours ago. He glanced at the clock. It was a little after seven, and he knew Chester would grumble at being awakened so early, and on his birthday, but they had things other than laying in bed to do today. Chester just didn’t know it yet. 

Mike set the tray on his bedside table and dropped his robe, sliding back into bed in his boxers. He slipped an arm around Chester’s waist and spread light kisses along the vocalist’s shoulders, coaxing him into awareness from sleep. He heard Chester mumble something unintelligible under his breath and smiled as he kissed along the back of his neck. “What’s that, Ches?”

“Too early,” Chester complained, turning his face into the pillow.

“But it’s your birthday, Ches.” Mike’s voice was light, persuasive. “I made you something special. C’mon, love, it’s not that early.”

“What time?” It was too early in Chester’s mind to be bothered with complete sentences.

“It’s after seven-” Chester groaned, slapping Mike’s hand away from his stomach- “but I made coffee… and cinnamon rolls.” Mike waited hopefully, and was rewarded with Chester’s still body, considering, before he turned to face Mike, his eyes still closed.

“ _You_ made cinnamon rolls? Like Pillsbury?” 

“Jesus, you think I’d make you canned bread on your birthday? No, I fuckin’ made them from scratch. I woke up at four am to make these fuckers, you better wake up and eat one before they get cold.”

Chester eyes finally cracked open. “Four am? You didn’t have to do that.”

Mike smiled and kissed Chester’s nose. “I know. I wanted to. I know how much you love cinnamon rolls.”

“I fuckin’ love cinnamon rolls.” Chester leaned forward to kiss Mike’s lips softly. “You are amazing, you know that?”

Mike shook his head. “No, I’m just in love. Happy Birthday, Ches. Now sit up and eat this cinnamon roll before I eat them all.” He reached for the tray and sat it down on the bed between them carefully.

“These smell amazing,” Chester moaned as he reached for one. “I can’t believe you made these.” He took a bite and closed his eyes. “ _Fuuuck._ Is there anything you aren’t good at?”

Mike watched his lover savor the bite of warm cinnamon roll with his eyes closed and that low chuckle, that laugh that was strictly for when he was amused by Chester, escaped his throat. “I try my hardest to please you,” he offered, reaching for his own yummy chunk of gooey cinnamon bread. “I’m glad these live up to your standards.” 

They sat for a while on the bed, cross-legged with the sheets and pillows in disarray around them, eating cinnamon rolls and talking, sipping coffee and feeding each other strawberries, before Chester noticed the envelope on the tray. “What’s this?” he asked, reaching for the envelope as he stuck a finger in his mouth to lick the frosting off.

Mike almost didn’t hear the question. He was mesmerized by Chester licking frosting off his fingers. The vocalist looked at Mike and caught him watching as he sucked on a fingertip, and he smirked. 

“See something you like?” Chester asked, his voice low and seductive as he opened his mouth and stuck another finger inside, giving Mike a glimpse of his little pink tongue lapping around the digits.

The blood went straight to Mike’s dick and he felt instant arousal from watching Chester’s mouth work on his own fingers. “I always see something I like when you’re here,” he husked, pushing the empty tray to the side and moving closer to Chester until their knees touched. “I might have icing on my fingers, too,” he added, wiggling his fingers in front of Chester’s face.

The envelope was forgotten as Chester lifted Mike’s hand to his mouth and gently ran his tongue around the sticky fingers, licking them clean while he stared into Mike’s eyes. Mike felt his heart racing. _We don’t have time for this right now, damn, he always distracts me… oh… ooohhh…_ All of the objections he could think of were dismissed as Chester sucked hard on Mike’s middle finger, his eyes shining with lust. _Fuck it._

In one movement Mike had Chester on his back, his boxers off, and his mouth around Chester’s dick, the taste of leftover icing still on his tongue. The fingers Chester had just been sucking on had already found their way inside Chester’s body, probing and stretching as Mike licked and sucked and tasted him, startling when his foot connected with the tray and sent it over the side of the bed. He heard Chester’s laughter from above and popped up off his glistening erection, a string of saliva connecting them still, to glare at the vocalist. “What’s so funny, Ches? How can you be laughing while your dick is in my mouth?”

Chester’s eyes were squeezed shut in gentle laughter and he felt for Mike’s hair as Mike dropped between his thighs, leaning forward to place his lips right next to Chester’s ear. “You won’t be laughing in a minute,” he promised, reaching between them to rub his dripping dick at Chester’s entrance. “Is this the thanks I get for making you breakfast in bed?” he teased, rubbing circles on Chester’s tender flesh as the laughter faded into breathy moans. “Is this what you want for your birthday? You want me inside of you, Ches?” Mike’s voice was raspy with sleepiness and desire, his lips barely brushing against Chester’s earlobe, and Mike felt the trembling desire of the man underneath him. _This isn’t going to last long,_ Mike thought as Chester affirmed that he did, indeed, want the emcee for his birthday.

He felt Chester’s hands pushing at his boxers as he stretched over the side of the bed for their lube, and he pushed up on his knees so they could be pushed down and kicked away. When they were adequately prepared and Mike pushed inside him all in one swift thrust, Chester whimpered and clutched at his back, his forehead wrinkling in discomfort.

“Sorry, sorry,” Mike whispered, mentally berating himself for his impatience, but Chester turned his head side to side on the pillow, gasping out, “no, no, this is what I want. I want you so much, I want you to fuck me _hard._ ”

Their morning sex was never right down the middle road of their sexual experiences. It was either far to the side of gentle, tender, slow lovemaking, or the far opposite side of heavy, hard, fast, desperate fucking. This birthday morning Chester wanted a good fucking, and Mike was going to give it to him. 

He was right, it didn’t take long to reduce Chester to a quivering mess, his knees pressed against his chest as Mike slammed into him, pulling his hips up close and tight with every thrust. He came hard and loud, no restraints on his voice at all as he cried incoherent words of pleasure and something that sounded like Mike’s name all mixed up and repeatedly while grasping the headboard in his hands. It was a swift completion for Mike as Chester constricted around him, though he managed to hold his own orgasm back until Chester had finished, prolonging the shared pleasure for them both. A good fucking was just what they had both needed this morning, and they lay with their arms and legs entwined, the sticky mess of Chester’s cum between them, catching their breath before Chester ran a hand through Mike’s sweaty hair and suggested a shower.

It was another five minutes of connection, lazy kisses in the passionate aftermath, before they made their way into the shower, enjoying the warmth of the water spraying from all directions. As Mike grasped his hips, Chester’s shampoo lathered hands caressed the dark strands of his hair and scalp, and he closed his eyes as the vocalist guided him under the shower spray to rinse away the bubbles. Shaking his hair from his forehead, Mike opened his eyes and grinned at Chester, droplets of water falling from his forehead and clinging to his eyelashes. “This was not in my plan for the morning, you know. We’ve got to get out of this shower and back on my agenda or we’re going to miss it.”

“Miss what?” Chester questioned as he and Mike traded strokes of body wash covered bath puffs with each other. He turned and Mike washed his back with one hand as his fingers of his other hand traced over the tattoos he’d had memorized for years. 

“Can’t tell you. You have to open the envelope,” Mike said, allowing Chester to wash his back. They both rinsed off quickly and were wrapping fluffy white towels around their waists as they stepped from the shower, Mike’s hair a bushy mess. Chester had rubbed the towel over his short curls and looked ready for a photo shoot. It wasn’t fair. Mike pulled his undershirt on and started trying to tame his hair in the mirror with his comb, watching Chester saunter into the bedroom, picking up the envelope from where it had fallen on the floor.

Chester read the note inside and looked at Mike’s reflection in the mirror as he stood in the other room. “We’re going to the airport? For what? Where are we going? Do I need to pack stuff? You know I can’t just pack last minute! What shoes will I need?”

The panic on Chester’s face cause Mike’s to break out into another smile. “Ches, just get dressed. I’ve already got your backpack ready to go. You don’t need anything but the shoes on your feet. We’re only staying overnight.”

“But- how will I know if the shoes I pick out match what you packed for tomorrow?” 

Mike sighed indulgently. “Go peek inside the backpack and figure out what shoes you want for that outfit, then plan today’s clothes around those shoes. I packed with your black boots in mind,” he added as Chester walked through the bathroom to get to the closet where the backpack was sitting on the floor next to Mike’s. “It doesn’t have to be so hard, Ches. You’re the spontaneous one, I didn’t think shoes were going to send you over the edge.”

“Don’t you know me at all?” Chester mock-wailed, his hands in the air as he leaned over for the backpack. He unzipped it and rifled through the contents, then said in a huff, “black boots, you’re right. The high top ones with the laces in front, not the high top ones with the buckles. Or were you thinking buckles?” He paused and looked at Mike, who shook his head in amusement.

“Laces, for sure. I love seeing anything tied around you,” he murmured, raising his eyebrows and winking. “Now, get moving. This isn’t a fashion show, it’s a flight, and we’re gonna miss it if we don’t hurry.”

“Hmpf. Shows how much _you_ know, Shinoda. _Everything_ is a fashion show.”

Rolling his eyes, Mike washed the gel off his hands and stepped into his boxers and jeans, buttoning a plaid shirt over his t-shirt and walking to their shared shoe wall to retrieve his checkered Vans. He paused and looked in the mirror as they both grabbed their backpacks and headed out, catching their reflection and grabbing Chester’s hand to pull him close before he slid his hand into the pocket of the vocalist’s jeans. He’d seen thousands of pictures of the two of them side by side, had sat through hundreds of legitimate photo shoots and watched hours of video footage of the two of them, but he didn’t think he’d ever get used to seeing Chester beside him in the bathroom of their own home as two ordinary guys instead of the rockstars they were. Suddenly he ached to just be ordinary.

“You ready, Ches?” He turned and kissed Chester’s cheek, squeezing one tight ass cheek in his hand. 

“Let’s go, Mikey. I’m ready for wherever you take me.” 

Surprisingly, the drive to the airport was uneventful, so the time Mike had allowed for traffic got them back on schedule, and they were comfortably through security with plenty of time. Chester had become uncontrollably hyper once he realized where they were going and why. Mike had booked their flights to Las Vegas and time at Club Tattoo for their tattoos. Until this morning, Chester had been convinced that Mike wouldn’t follow through with the tattoo, but Mike had surprised him with the confirmation that he also had time scheduled in the chair with Sean, the beautifully detailed and colorful drawing of Mike’s tattoo in the sketchbook in his backpack. It was a birthday gift Chester could receive with enthusiasm, and Mike was looking forward to delivering.

The flight was quick and they were on the way to Club Tattoo, Chester’s excitement building as they neared the establishment. “It’s been too long since I’ve been in the chair,” he gushed. “This is the best birthday ever,” he went on, squeezing Mike’s hand tightly. “Do I get to go first?” he asked, bouncing in his seat.

Chuckling, Mike glanced over at him, the radiant glow on Chester’s face knocking the breath from him. _He’s absolutely beautiful._ “Whatever you want, Ches. As long as you can still hold my hand while Sean’s working on mine, I’ll go second. Now you just need to decide- my initials on your chest or my name on your back?”

With a sideways glance, Chester replied, “neither. The girls are going on my chest. You’re going right here.” Mike watched as Chester smiled slowly and pointed to his hip bone.

Mike sucked in a sharp breath and caught Chester’s eyes. “That’s where you want me?”

Chester nodded. “Right below the waistband, right here where you and I are the only people who can see it. I don’t want it on my back. I want to be able to see it too.”

Mike remembered how to exhale, and he did so as he imagined tracing his tongue over that tattoo every time they made love. He was already horny again. It was ridiculous. “My initials or my name?” he asked, his voice husky again, watching Chester’s face as he spoke.

“Your name. Your _signature_. Like a branding. I want you to write it for Sean to transfer onto my skin,” Chester smirked, his voice dropping low. “I belong to you. And you’re going to watch Sean ink your name into my skin forever, right there on my hip… and it’s going to turn you on so much, Mikey.”

“I’m already fucking turned on, Ches,” Mike breathed. “Maybe I should go first.”

“Maybe. Let’s go see about all this.” 

Mike followed behind Chester as he waltzed into Club Tattoo as if he owned the place, embracing old friends and chatting away as Mike battled his emotions that wavered between horniness and anxiety. He still wasn’t sure he could sit through a tattoo, but he reasoned with himself that Chester had spent hours upon hours in the chair, and therefore he could do it too.

Eventually they settled in for the session, deciding that Mike should go first after all so his anxiety didn’t continue to build. Chester pulled a chair up next to him and Mike grasped his hand tightly as Sean prepared his shoulder for the work.

“You ready?” Chester asked before Mike felt the first sting of the needle in his skin, gritting his teeth together tightly. “Relax, before you know it, it will all just feel numb. I can’t believe you’re doing this,” he added, his brown eyes full of wonder and love.

“Yeah. Me either,” Mike hissed through his teeth. “This fuckin’ hurts!”

“Just look at me, love” Chester said, ignoring how Sean’s eyes flicked over to him for a second. “You can do it. God, I love tattoos. It’s going to be gorgeous on you when it’s finished.”

It was, and Chester was right, as always. The initial pain faded into a numbness as the outline of the flaming sun was inked into his skin, then the colors that perfectly matched Chester’s wrists were applied, and finally Chester’s monogram in the center, permanently declaring Chester’s possession of Mike, body and soul. When it was finished and covered, Mike felt lightheaded and cold, but it was finished. He’d done it. Forty-one years old and he’d just gotten his first and likely only tattoo, his brilliantly designed tattoo that made Chester’s eyes shine with pride. The delighted, possessive kiss Chester bestowed upon him when he rose from the chair was worth every second of discomfort. He knew the tattoo meant more to Chester than anything else he could have done to show the vocalist that he was all in, forever. Mike Shinoda didn’t get tattoos, but for Chester, he would do anything.

When it was Chester’s turn, Mike didn’t know how he could lay back with a smile as Sean quickly and expertly applied Lily and Lila’s initials to his chest, but the vocalist was relaxed and smiling, his hand placed lightly in Mike’s, a dreamy expression on his face. Mike still felt sick as he watched the girls’ initials take their places next to Isaiah’s, but that part was completed quickly. As soon as Sean started to prepare the inside of Chester’s hip for Mike’s signature, he felt a warmth spread through him, temporarily distracting him from the pain in his shoulder. His name, written by his own hand, was going to be on Chester’s body. He couldn’t think of anything sexier. 

This time, Chester kept his eyes open, locked onto Mike’s face, watching as the flood of emotions crossed over the emcee’s features. When it was completed, Mike looked at him with love and awe, impressed that Chester didn’t seem to be bothered by needles in such a tender part of his body, adoring the way his signature looked on the palest of all the locations on the vocalist’s pure white skin. They were marked, in a more public way than the private ways they’d been marked for and by each other for years, even if neither tattoo would ever be seen by the public, and Mike smiled as he pressed a gentle kiss to Chester’s lips. “Wow, Ches… it looks good on you.”

“For your eyes only,” Ches said, gingerly pulling up his jeans over the bandage. “Good thing you had your way with me this morning,” he whispered. “It’s going to take a few days for this to heal, you know.” Mike frowned as Chester laughed at his petulant expression. “Don’t worry, we’ll find other ways.”

They opted for a room service dinner that evening before Chester showed Mike how to care for his new tattoo as it healed. Many off-topic caresses and kisses later, they were in bed, the way they had done so many times on tour, leaning against pillows propped along the headboard, eating ice cream sandwiches from the snack area in the lobby, flipping channels on the television. 

“Mike?” Chester had finished his ice cream sandwich and was licking the chocolate wafer remnants from his thumb.

Mike smiled as he watched Chester lick his fingers. The day had come full circle. “Yeah?”

“This was a great birthday. Thank you,” he said sincerely, and Mike smiled. 

“I’m glad you had a good day, Ches. I enjoyed spending it with you.” He leaned over to kiss Chester and cupped the vocalist’s face in his hand. “I never thought I’d want a tattoo, but I’m glad I did it. I’m yours, Ches, and it doesn’t scare me anymore. There’s nothing in the way of the rest of our lives now… and we’re just months away from being married. _Married_ , Chester. Can you believe that?” He traced his thumb over Chester’s cheek and watched the loving smile take hold of his fiance’s face.

“It’s been the longest courtship ever,” Chester declared, and Mike giggled. “Who else do you know that’s been together twenty years before they got married?”

“Nobody, Ches… but there’s not anyone else like us, I promise you that, my love.” Mike covered Chester’s lips with his own again, another tender kiss before he said, “I’m maxed out today, I think. I know it’s early, but how would you feel about turning everything off and going to sleep?”

Chester squeezed Mike’s hand. “I can’t think of anywhere else I’d rather be than right beside you, in this bed. Doesn’t matter where we are, as long as I’m with you, Mike… that’s where I want to be.”

“Same,” Mike said seriously, gingerly moving to turn off the lamp as Chester clicked off the tv from the remote on his side of the bed, and they snuggled together carefully, avoiding Mike’s aching shoulder and Chester’s tender pelvis as they got comfortable, settling in for a peaceful night in each other’s arms.


	59. Together

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's a three-month time hop in this one... so it's now July 2018 in the story. :)

“I can’t think of a better place to relax in the middle of a tour,” Joe said as he got out of the car with Heidi behind him, stretching as he took in the view… palm trees blowing in the breeze, brightly colored flowers everywhere, the sound of the ocean filling his ears. “At least these guys know how to plan a wedding. Hey, Delson,” he called as his eyes fell on Brad as he stood at the railing of the giant beach house, looking out over the circle drive.

The too-large obnoxious Hawaiian shirt Brad was wearing blew in the breeze as he waved down at Joe and Heidi. He’d come out on the front lanai to get a moment of peace from Linsey and Elisa who were inside the house, shrieking over every detail of Mike and Chester’s Kauai hideaway as Chester showed them around. 

“You guys are the last ones here,” Brad said as Joe and Heidi made their way up the walk. “I think there’s one more bedroom left, but it’s the one next to Mike and Chester,” he added, his eyes amused.

“Well, fuck. I knew we should have taken an earlier flight,” Joe complained as he looked over at his wife. “We’re going to have to listen to them all week.” His words and his expression didn’t match, and Brad laughed, knowing that hearing Mike and Chester wasn’t going to bother the deejay in the slightest. It was all a show for his wife. 

“Come on, I’ll show you where to drop your bags. The girls are in the kitchen,” Brad told Heidi as the trio stepped inside the beach house. 

“This is where Mike got the inspiration for the sea glass in our bathroom,” Chester was explaining as he pointed to the backsplash in the kitchen, Linsey and Elisa nodding and smiling while he talked. Heidi joined them and the conversation stopped for moments of greetings and hugs as Brad led Joe upstairs.

“How’s everything going so far?” Joe inquired in a low voice as they made their way through the small hallway into the bedroom next to the master bedroom Mike and Chester were sharing.

“Just decompressing from the last month,” Brad replied. “It’s good to have a break. Elisa’s excited to be here without the kids, it seems like it’s going to be a good week.”

Joe dropped his suitcases in the bedroom and glanced around before looking back at Brad. “You know what I really want to know. Did Rob bring Josh?” Brad nodded, and Joe exhaled slowly. “Is it weird to have him here? I mean, I still think of him as crew… not… Rob’s boyfriend.”

Brad shrugged. “It’s been five months, Hahn. I think it’s time to get over it. I mean… if I can manage…”

Joe snorted in agreement. “No joke. Man, it’s crazy we’re here, and Mike and Chester are getting married… this past year has been wild.” He walked to the wall of windows that overlooked the side garden. “You guys must have gotten the ocean view.”

“Nah, that belongs to the lovebirds,” Brad rolled his eyes. “You should see the master suite. Private lanai, outside bath, ocean view. I have to admit, Chester did an excellent job finding this place. This is apparently the same place they stayed last November.”

Just then Dave poked his head into the room. “You guys ready to get dinner going? Chester’s starting to wind down from the tour of the house and you know the next thing will be ‘why isn’t dinner finished yet?’” His imitation of Chester at his most diva was spot on, and Brad and Joe both laughed with him as they made their way back down the stairs.

Mike was already outside with Rob and Josh when the rest of the band, save Chester, walked out onto the back lanai. The grill was already hot and Mike was hovering over the meat, making faces at Rob and Brad’s pesto portobello burgers and teasing Josh for eating meat.

“It won’t be long and he’ll have you converted,” Mike said, pointing his grilling tongs at Josh, who sat with wide blue eyes next to Rob, his young face freshly shaven and his blonde hair falling across his forehead and into those sparkling eyes. He looked like the quintessential Californian twenty-something surfer, a nice complement to Rob’s dark features. He was still star-struck at times when just hanging with the band, outside his element as Rob’s drum tech. 

Josh’s voice was playful as he poked Rob in the side. “Ah, Rob’s not as vegetarian as you guys think.” 

Rob’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at Josh’s admission, and he smiled as he caught Josh’s hand. “Careful, there… I’d hate to have to… make you pay for that later.” Rob’s voice was quietly menacing but his eyes were glittering with amusement.

“We all know Bourdie eats meat now,” Joe crowed as he lightly punched the drummer in the arm while he sat down. “There’s no secrets in this band, Joshy.”

“Indeed,” Mike said drily, “although I suppose that’s a good thing.” He looked at Rob holding Josh’s hand and smiled. _Chester and I did that. They’re together because of us._ The band had been so much more accepting of Rob dating a man than they had been initially of Mike and Chester’s relationship, but then, Rob hadn’t been married. _He did it the right way,_ Mike thought with a touch of regret. He still hadn’t completely forgiven himself for how things had ended with Anna, and neither had she, but he still had hope for the future. She was trying, for the sake of the children, but Mike didn’t know if they’d ever be able to come here with Chester, his kids, and Talinda, the way they had dreamed last summer. The ability of everyone to get along well enough to share a vacation seemed like a far-fetched idea at this point. 

“Miiiiikkkkkeeee! Are the burgers done yet?” Chester sang as he breezed out onto the lanai with Elisa, Linsey, and Heidi in tow, the wives all holding glasses of white wine.

“‘Lis!” Brad hissed as he looked at the glass in his wife’s hand, “you guys can’t drink wine while we’re here!”

“Relax, Braddles, I poured it myself,” Chester said proudly as he slid an arm around Mike’s waist and kissed him sloppily on the cheek. “I don’t even want any. I don’t _need_ any. I don’t need anything when I’m with Mike.” His eyes were adoring as he looked at Mike, who also looked completely enamored with the vocalist. “He keeps all those dark cravings away. No need for the rest of you to go without. You’ve spent twelve years going without. Don’t worry about it… I can do it.” 

Chester was proud and self-assured, glowing with happiness as Mike looked at Brad’s concerned face. “Stop worrying, Delson. I’m not having any. I’m with Ches. Alcohol-free for life. But you guys enjoy. This is our decision, no need for you to go without.”

Brad looked around at the faces of his bandmates, who were all as astonished as he was, and who all had the same resolute expression. “I think I speak for all of us when we say we stand with you guys,” Brad said. “The ladies can have their wine, but the six of us… we’re a team. We’re all in this together.”

Both Mike and Chester’s expressions softened to gratefulness as the four other members of Linkin Park nodded their agreement. Linkin Park had been alcohol-free since 2006. There was no reason to change that now. “Thanks, you guys,” Mike said quietly as Chester kissed him again, this time full on the lips. “Love you, Ches.” 

Everyone was coupled up on the lanai, discussing their flights, the weather forecast for the week, and the itinerary of events Mike and Chester had planned for their wedding week. There were four days of hanging out together, sightseeing, sailing, and hiking ahead of them before the day of the wedding, planned deep in the lush vegetation of Kauai at the waterfall where Mike had taken his angel picture of Chester on their last trip. Only the band would be present, as well as the officiant, on Friday, July the sixth, exactly one year from the night Mike and Chester had first made love in Birmingham. 

_One year ago. It seems like forever, but also that it was just yesterday. So much has changed, and we’ve lost and gained, been happy and cried, too, so many emotions and so many trials, and now here we are… just days away from officially being married. I can’t believe it._

Mike was lost in thought while he flipped burgers, being careful to keep the mushroom burgers away from the actual meat burgers, and the conversation buzzed around him. They weren’t long into eating when the wives started up again. 

“Where exactly are you getting married?” Heidi asked, cutting her burger in half.

Chester looked over at Mike, who was cleaning off the grill, and reluctantly put his burger down to answer. “It’s a waterfall up on the side of a mountain-” a collective moan from the group had Chester rescinding his words- “hill, a minor hill,” he corrected. “Mike and I hiked up there last summer. It’s beautiful and peaceful and totally secluded. It’s perfect.”

“It really is beautiful,” Mike added. “I took some amazing pictures up there last year.” He and Chester smiled softly, secretively at each other, as Mike took a place on the outdoor sofa next to him. 

Heidi looked at Joe, who was cramming his burger into his mouth. “Sounds romantic.”

“Oh, I know! This is like being at a rehearsal dinner!” Elisa exclaimed. “You know, all the stories everyone tells about the couple and the wedding and everything!”

“Soooo… tell us how you met!” Linsey giggled, tossing her hair back away from her eyes as she leaned close to Dave, poking an elbow into his arm as he tried to get his burger in his mouth. 

Everyone laughed at the ridiculous question- after all, they had all been there when Mike and Chester met- but Linsey wasn’t deterred. “No, seriously, seriously! It’s a legit rehearsal dinner question! We all get to hear the story, it’s traditional.”

Dave groaned and rubbed his hands up and down his wife’s arms. “We’ve all heard this story a thousand times, Lins.”

“But… I don’t think _we’ve_ ever heard it from _their_ perspective,” Heidi said, pointing first at the ladies and then at the two frontmen. “At least, _I_ haven’t.”

Mike smiled indulgently and looked at Chester. “Do you want to tell it, or should I?”

“Oh, I love your version of it, Mike… you tell the story. And that way I can eat,” Chester answered as he looked down longingly at the cheeseburger in his hands. 

Setting his burger down on the plate in his lap, Mike leaned back on the cushioned wicker couch and looked off into the ocean, his expression thoughtful. “I was just twenty-one when I met Chester. He came to audition for the band, and we’d never even seen him until the moment he walked in, his khaki cargo pants way too big… I think you had on a blue long sleeved t-shirt… is that right, Ches?”

Chester nodded, his mouth full of cheeseburger. The wives and Josh were hanging on Mike’s every word. 

“The first thing I remember thinking, when I shook his hand, was how intensely deep his eyes were behind those dark rimmed glasses.” Mike looked at Chester, seeing his twenty-two year old face in his mind. “Your hair was short and dark, and you had that lip ring already…” Mike’s voice faded for a moment as he recalled the lip ring that had been an instant turn-on back in the day. “I looked at you and I hoped… I hoped so much that you would be the one. I had no idea what kind of voice was inside that skinny body of yours, but I was drawn to you, Ches. I couldn’t understand it then, I didn’t even realize it, I don’t think… but I hoped you’d be the person we were looking for, the person to complete us. And then… you opened your mouth and… well, if I admit it to myself now, I started falling in love with you from the first syllable that fell from your lips. You were unbelievable, and we couldn’t believe our good fortune to have you sent to us. It was meant to be, it all came together at exactly the right time. Your audition was one of the best days of my life, Ches.”

“Oh my God, that is so sweet!” Linsey gushed as the rest of the band rolled their eyes. “Chester, what do you remember about meeting Mike?”

Chester paused for a moment and looked at his fiance over the top of his half eaten cheeseburger before he grinned. “I can’t remember a thing about what he had on, because honestly, I was undressing him in my head while he was introducing the rest of you guys.”

Everyone laughed and Mike shook his head, his grin huge. “No, you were not,” he gasped between chuckles.

“I was! I took one look at that smile, at those big innocent brown eyes, and had you naked in seconds!” Chester looked around the circle earnestly. “Seconds, Shinoda!”

“Too much information!” Dave exclaimed as his wife fell over into his lap, laughing. 

“Yeah, maybe… it only took us nearly two decades to realize how we felt about each other,” Chester said, his amusement fading a bit. “Not that I’d change a minute, Mikey.”

“Me, either, Ches,” Mike agreed. “It’s been the very best two decades with all of you guys.”

“Now, now, let’s not get too emotional just yet,” Brad started, but was immediately interrupted by his wife. “Aw, let them reminisce, honey. Tell us, when did you realize it was more than just best friends? When did you realize you were in love?”

Immediately Brad objected to the question. “Shouldn’t you guys, like, plead the fifth on that one? C’mon, Lis, they were both married at the time. That’s like, self-incriminating.”

“Well, we never _acted_ on anything until last summer,” Chester started, not the least bit perturbed by the question. “But I think I realized I was in love with Mike when we wrote _Roads Untraveled._ There was just something about the process of that song… the way our voices connected on those lyrics… I just knew. I didn’t know then that Mike knew, too,” he explained, his eyes only on Mike, “but we were both feeling it… and it came out in that song.”

Mike nodded as he said, “yeah, I knew when we were in New Zealand, and I woke up one morning with Chester curled up next to me… I looked at him, sleeping there beside me, and I just knew.” Mike shrugged. “It really was that simple. It was like I woke up and I had new eyes to see the world. Everything changed.”

The way that Mike and Chester looked at each other right then, the tender love on both their faces, made everyone feel for a moment that they were seeing everything through new eyes as well. Chester leaned over and kissed Mike’s cheek before he murmured, “I love you, Mike.”

“God, you two are just the cutest,” Elisa said. “But, I think we all knew it _way_ before you did.”

“Oh, for sure,” Linsey agreed.

Mike just shrugged as he reached to wipe a spot of mustard off Chester’s chin with his thumb. “Maybe you did, maybe you didn’t. But we all know it now, and that’s all that matters.”

“Even I knew,” Josh piped up, and the band looked at him in astonishment. He laughed at the surprised looks on all their faces. “Really? I mean… it wasn’t exactly subtle. The whole crew used to talk about it.”

“I guess when you’re as close to it as we were, it’s hard to see,” Rob suggested, and Joe, Brad, and Dave nodded. 

“Same reason we didn’t know about you,” Joe said, pointing at Rob and Josh.

“Nah, we’re just better at hiding it than these guys,” Rob teased.

“Maybe if you had more than one facial expression, Bourdie, we’d know what’s up with you,” Mike shot back, his smile huge. 

The banter continued as the sun set, spreading glorious colors across the ocean and the sky while many burgers were eaten and stories were traded around the group. After a day of travel, everyone agreed to head off to bed early in anticipation of sailing the next day, and as each couple split off into their own rooms, Mike and Chester bid goodnight to everyone, thanking them for coming all the way out to Kauai for their wedding week.

It had been an exhausting day, but Mike’s heart was full. Four days were all that remained between him and forever. He was so excited he had no idea how he would be able to fall asleep, despite his body screaming at him to just go lay in the bed.

They had both showered and were laying in bed, Mike aimlessly changing channels on the giant television and Chester playing a game on his phone, when Mike clicked the tv off and turned on his side to face his lover. It was a few moments before Chester realized he was being watched. “See something you like?” he asked with a smirk, the way he always did when they were alone and he was horny.

Mike smiled and tucked his arm up under his pillow. “Maybe,” he answered, and his non-committal reply instantly got Chester’s attention. Mike watched as he turned off his game and set the phone to the side. 

“What can I do to change your mind?” he purred, sliding down in the bed and reaching for Mike, placing a warm hand over the emcee’s heart.

“Well, I was thinking…” Mike trailed off, looking down at Chester’s flamed wrist, the hand pressed over his heart. “Wondering, really…”

“What’s that, love?” Chester prodded, his voice silky and low.

Their eyes met and held for a breathless moment. _He still makes me feel weak, like I can’t breathe. Sometimes I wonder if my heart is really still beating or if this is all a dream._ “I was thinking about what you said earlier, wondering if… you really knew, all the way back at _Roads Untraveled_?”

Leaning forward, Chester placed a gentle kiss on Mike’s waiting lips, cupping his hand around Mike’s cheek and running this thumb over the whiskers in his beard. “No. It wasn’t _Roads Untraveled_ ,” Chester murmured. “I only said that to them because I didn’t want them to know how long I’ve been in love with you.”

The little crease that appeared between Mike’s brows when he was anxious or worried popped up and Chester lifted his hand to smooth the wrinkle out with his fingertip. “Don’t look like that, love. It’s not bad… I just… I just didn’t want to admit it to them.” He looked into Mike’s eyes as he said, “I knew before I married Talinda. I knew before we started sleeping together, Mike, before we even finished _Minutes to Midnight._ ” Chester watched the sharp intake of breath, the wonder in Mike’s eyes as he waited for Chester to finish confessing. “I remember that first morning I woke up next to you, when we’d accidentally fallen asleep in your bed together… I felt you run your finger down my nose, and I didn’t want to open my eyes, I didn’t want to leave from your side. I’d thought about what it would be like to sleep next to you for so long, and I was so afraid you’d be disgusted by what had happened, that we were in bed together.”

“I wasn’t, Ches.” Mike’s face was truthful, endearing. “I was surprised, yes, but it felt so right to have you there with me.” Mike closed his eyes tightly for a moment, and his voice shook as he breathed out, “you were so beautiful and I was so confused by how I felt… I’m sorry it took me so long to realize-”

“Shhh,” Chester moved his finger to Mike’s lips as he shushed him, shaking his head. “No regrets, Mikey. We can’t go back, only forward. Forward together. We’re finally together, and it has been worth every step of the journey.”

When Mike’s hands came up to smooth over Chester’s hair and their lips came together again, the vocalist moaned, a bit too loudly. Mike pulled away, his eyes sparkling in amusement. “I know it’s been a while since we had to worry about it, Ches, but you’re gonna have to keep it down.” His voice was teasing but husky, adoring and desiring.

“Ah, it’s just Hahn on the other side of us,” Chester breathed, and they quietly laughed together. “But, I’ll try, I really will. I can’t help it that you love me so well.” 

“I do love you, you know.” Mike slid both hands down Chester’s neck, feathering his fingertips across the tattoos at his collarbone. “I’m grateful. I’m grateful to have your love and grateful to Tal for giving you up,” he whispered, tracing Talinda’s initials before he kissed them gently. “We have so much to be grateful for, Chester.”

“Four more days until forever,” Chester breathed as Mike continued kissing along his skin, licking, tasting, worshipping, taking the time to love him well into the night.


	60. Forever

Mike was anxious. 

He and Chester had agreed they would not see each other again after breakfast until the moment they met at the waterfall, and the anticipation was overwhelming. They’d spent the past four days with their friends, enjoying the freedom of not bring on tour and being with each other, hiking and sailing, swimming in the ocean and the pool, playing golf, eating way too much food, constantly laughing. It had been a week of happiness and excitement, and now his stomach was in knots as he prepared for the wedding ceremony. Not because he was unsure, but because he couldn’t wait to be with Chester again. It had been a long time since they had spent more than a few hours apart. 

When he had opened his eyes that morning, Chester was laying next to him, curled on his side, gazing at him though sleepy eyes. They lay for a moment, just looking at each other, the gravity of the day not lost on either of them… there was no need for good mornings, or for talking at all, as their eyes said everything that needed to be said. It was Chester who finally closed the space between them, pressing his body against Mike’s, bringing their lips together sweetly as their legs entwined, their hands softly stroking over each other’s back and arm. The kiss was warm and wet, tender and unhurried, loving and hopeful. When it broke their lips hovered, unwilling to give up the contact completely, breathing each other in and savoring the warm closeness. Mike could feel the electricity between their lips, the twist of desire in the pit of his stomach, as Chester’s face hovered so close to his own, until he felt Chester’s lips tip into a soft smile and he opened his eyes. 

_“I’ve been laying here, thinking, I can’t believe it… I’m marrying you today,” Chester whispered, sounding as amazed as Mike felt in that moment._

_“Believe it,” Mike breathed, feathering his lips over Chester’s again, then gently pressing his back into the pillow, kissing down his jaw to gently bite his ear. “You’re gonna be mine, forever…”_

_“I’m already yours… and now everyone will know. Just the way you wanted. Everyone in the fuckin’ world will know it,” Chester gasped as he felt Mike’s teeth graze along his earlobe. “Mikey… you know we can’t do this now, this morning… it’s like… anti-traditional or something.”_

_Mike chuckled as he hovered over Chester, their bodies barely touching. “Oh, I know, Ches… trust me… though we are_ so _not traditional.” He gently placed a last kiss on Chester’s parted lips before he pushed away, grinning at the whine he heard from the vocalist. “Let’s go eat breakfast before we have to separate,” he said, holding his hand out for Chester to grab. Pulling him from the bed, he wrapped his arms around Chester and hugged him tightly. “This is the best day of my life, Ches.”_

As he buttoned his gold cufflinks, Mike smiled over the memory of the morning, of the last moments they’d shared before retreating into separate rooms to get ready. He was sure at this point that Chester had already left the beach house, but he had to wait until he was told all was clear to leave for the waterfall. He didn’t want to ruin the surprise. A few more restless minutes passed while he reached for and started tying his necktie.

“Are you ready?” Brad’s head poked into the room he shared with his wife, where Mike had been carefully getting dressed, in time to see him tightening the knot on his tie. Grinning, he let out a low whistle and said, “damn, Shinoda! Lookin’ good!” 

“Calm down, Delson, he’s taken,” Joe said as he slid into the room first, leaving Brad in the doorway. The deejay halted halfway into the bedroom and appraised Mike critically. “Though I guess you’re right. You’re looking pretty fine, man.”

Mike turned back to the mirror and smoothed his hands down his light tan vest, buttoned over his crisp white shirt that was tucked into matching tan pants, before he tucked the end of his tan and forest green diagonally striped tie down into his vest. His hair was perfectly gelled into place, his facial hair neatly trimmed, and he’d already brushed his teeth. All that was left was the dark brown lace up dress shoes Chester had chosen to complete their matching suits, and he would be ready. 

He remembered how nervous he’d been when he married Anna, the morning of their wedding standing in the back room of the church with Chester hovering nearby, his stomach tied in knots at the thought of saying his vows. Today he didn’t feel anything other than joyous anticipation, and the same anxious feeling he always got when he was separated from the vocalist for too long. 

“Do you have the rings?” he asked Brad, turning to him with his eyebrow cocked. 

Patting his pants pocket, Brad smiled. “Got ‘em. How are you feeling?”

The answering smile completely eclipsed Mike’s face. “Excited. Jesus, I can’t wait to get to the waterfall.” 

Stepping forward, Brad slipped a folded paper into Mike’s hand. “Chester asked me to give you this before we left,” he explained, stepping back to give Mike privacy to read the note.

_The next time I look into your eyes will be the beginning of our forever._ Chester’s signature was scrawled underneath, and Mike felt tears prick the corners of his eyes at the simple words. They’d been counting down the days to forever since before their divorces were final, and now it was here. He read the line again, his heart expanding in his chest. _Forever._ He folded the paper and slipped it into the inner pocket of his vest and smiled.

Brad and Joe watched him silently as he read Chester’s note, but as soon as he tucked it away, Brad spoke up. “Well, Chester already left with Dave and Rob, so it’s our turn. Unless you need to do anything else.” He looked around the bedroom and didn’t see anything else that belonged to Mike, but he could never be sure what checklist was hiding inside the emcee’s mind. 

Mike looked at himself in the mirror one last time and took a deep breath, patting the note that was directly over his heart. “No… no, everything is just right. I’m so ready.”

“Let’s go, then,” Joe said, patting the camera bag slung over his shoulder. “I brought my best camera, all the way from LA, just for you guys. You should feel honored.”

“You better take good pictures, Hahn. I don’t want to look back on this day and only have a bunch of grainy, unfocused shots,” Mike warned.

Joe rolled his eyes as they left the house with Elisa and Heidi in tow. “I _know_ photography, Mike. I mean… really. You doubt the great Joe Hahn?”

“I’m just saying!” Mike threw his hands up in the air. “I just want everything to be perfect.”

Everyone was talking all at once in the car, and thankfully- in Mike’s opinion- the drive to where they could leave the car was short. Unlike the location Mike had photographed Chester on their last visit, the clearing they were to be married at was lower, the hike up the trail not too daunting, with the waterfall dropping from high above, creating an entrancing backdrop. Mike inhaled deeply as he stepped out of the car, taking in the fresh air, the smell of the water and the flowers, and closed his eyes, imagining the moment he would see Chester’s face at the waterfall. He knew it would be a moment that would be imprinted on his heart the rest of his life. Every sight, every smell, every sound of this day would linger because he was determined not to miss a thing, not to forget a moment. 

Now, as he was making his way up the trail, the world was alive and intensely green all around him, the quiet offset by birds and small creatures hidden under the lush vegetation. Everyone had fallen silent behind him, almost reverent as they neared the clearing. Just as they reached the location of the ceremony, Mike hesitated, turning to Brad. “Will you go on ahead, and make sure everything is set? I don’t want to ruin anything. I don’t want Chester to see me by accident.”

“Joe’s going on ahead, he wanted to get some pictures of the location before the ceremony. I’ll stay here with you,” Brad said, motioning to Heidi and Elisa. “You ladies should go on ahead, honey. Make sure you get us a good spot to watch from,” he added, winking at his wife before pecking her quickly on the lips. They watched the three disappear behind the dense leaves, the clearing just on the other side of a giant wall of pink bougainvillea. 

Then it was just Mike and Brad, silent as they waited for Joe to come back and tell them it was time for the ceremony to begin. They stood next to each other, their arms close but not touching, both thinking of words that should be said before it was too late, afraid to be the first to speak. Brad looked up into the sky, the crystalline clear blue sky, and sighed before he reached for Mike, pulling him into a close hug. “I love you, Mike,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “I’m happy for you and Chester, I know… I know this will be everything you’ve ever wanted and hoped for, everything you’ve been missing. I want you to know that I’ll always be here for you both.”

Mike swallowed against the sudden tightness in his throat, and pressed his lips to Brad’s cheek. “I love you, too. You’ve been my best friend for what feels like my entire life. I’m grateful you’re here with us today.” His words were simple and Mike felt like he could have done better if he’d planned what he wanted to say, but it was enough, and as he pulled away, the smile crossing Brad’s face told him what he needed to know- everything was right between them.

It was only a few more minutes before Joe came back down the path, snapping a picture of Brad and Mike as they stood, waiting. “It’s time,” he motioned for them to follow, and Mike took a deep breath. This was it, the moment he had envisioned since he’d asked Chester to be his husband… they were about to be married, almost exactly twenty years after it had all begun.

With Brad at his side, Mike stepped toward the clearing, the sunlight beaming down into the lush space like the heavens were kissing the ground Chester walked on… the spray of water in the background glittering in the sun, throwing rainbows through Mike’s vision as his eyes landed on his love. His fiance. His Chester. There he was, standing with his back to Mike, gazing out over the waterfall, his suit immaculately tailored to his lithe body, his hands relaxed at his sides, in the middle of a circle strewn with fragrant, delicate pink plumeria blossoms. Mike felt Brad slip away to stand next to Elisa, who placed a plumeria and tuberose lei around his neck, matching him to Josh, the rest of the band, and their wives, all standing in a semi-circle around Chester and their officiant. He let his eyes drift over Chester’s beautiful backside as he closed the remaining distance between them, his heart hammering in his ribcage.

“Ches,” he whispered as he stopped just feet away from the vocalist. “Ches, I’m here… turn around, love.”

As his eyes met Chester’s, all he could see behind the haze of tears was hundreds of images of his deepest love, snapshots he’d held in his memory for years. Blonde hair and brown hair, a red tipped mohawk and faux hawks. Chester’s eyes behind glasses and his eyes without. His lip ring and the way he smiled around it. His joyful expression the first time they heard one of their songs on the radio. His face when he’d broken his ankle, when Mike had been beside himself while Chester was in surgery. Flashes of countless shared cigarettes and jokes, innocent caresses that had become so much more. The way his hands moved on Mike’s guitar when they wrote in his studio… the studio that was now _their_ studio. A vision of Chester with his beautiful eyes closed as he sang any number of songs on stage, just him and Mike and the piano. The devilish glint in his eyes as he had Mike’s signature tattooed on his body. The euphoric closeness of their first night together, the emotional intimacy of their lovemaking on the beach, the excitement of moving in together, and so many other unforgettable pictures in Mike’s head of Chester, only Chester, the way his hips moved and his lips moved, the way he looked on his knees in front of Mike and on his back underneath him, the way he leaned his head back to laugh and the love in his eyes when he looked at Mike.

He passed his hand over his eyes quickly, blinking away the tears before he reached for Chester’s hands, holding them both gently and running his thumbs over the tops of his fingers. All he could see as he focused on Chester’s face was the future, their forever, stretched before them like the ocean outside their beach house bedroom window, shimmering and endless. He felt as though his heart might burst from happiness. He couldn’t hear the words the officiant, Mason, was speaking to welcome their witnesses, he couldn’t hear the wind rustling the palms or the sound of the waterfall behind them. Mike could only hear Chester’s voice in his mind, the way he had heard him there for years, and he smiled as Chester squeezed his hands, the simple action bringing him back into the moment, into the beginning of their marriage.

“Before we begin the ceremony, Michael and Chester will exchange leis,” he heard Mason say, and realized he’d come back to the present just in time.

Rob and Dave stepped forward, each with a lei made of maile leaves, Rob giving his to Mike, and Dave giving his to Chester, the woodsy, spicy, vanilla smell of the green leaves enveloping them both as they placed them around each other’s necks. The open ends of the leis dangled almost to their knees, and Mike took Chester’s hands back into his as soon as they had placed the leis.

Satisfied with the exchange, Mason began speaking. “Marriage is perhaps the greatest and most challenging adventure of human relationships. No ceremony can create your marriage; only you can do that- through love and patience; through dedication and perseverance; through talking, and more importantly, listening; through supporting and believing in each other; through tenderness and laughter; through learning to make the important things matter, and leaving out all the rest.”

Chester’s eyes sparkled in amusement as the song lyrics he’d teased Mike with so many months ago surfaced in the officiant’s speech. Mike gently squeezed his hands and held back the smile that was threatening to disrupt the solemn moment.

“Before your witnesses I now ask for your declaration of intent.” Mason turned to Mike first. “Will you, Michael, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?”

“I will.” Mike’s voice was strong and confident as he looked into Chester’s eyes. The love and hope he saw there brought the tightness back to his throat instantly and he swallowed, hard, smiling at his lover, determined not to cry again.

“Will you, Chester, take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband?” It was Chester’s turn, and Mike held his breath expectantly.

“I will.” Chester squeezed Mike’s fingers again and felt the emcee relax, as though he had any reason to think Chester would say no. 

“We have come to the point of your ceremony where you will make your vows to each other. No ties are more tender, no vows more sacred than those you are about to assume, and I ask you both to remember that love is the foundation of a deepening and satisfying relationship. Michael, please read now the vows you have written for Chester.” 

Reluctantly, Mike released Chester’s hands to pull the paper he’d written his vows on from his pocket, unfolding them as he took a deep breath. _Don’t cry, you can do this. Remember to look at him, don’t just read them. Don’t cry, don’t cry._

“I, Mike, choose you, Chester, to be no other than yourself. Loving what I know of you, trusting what things I will discover.” He looked up to the gleam in Chester’s eyes, and smiled as he continued. “There is little to say that you haven’t already heard, and little to give that is not already freely given. You have shown me more joy that I thought I was capable of feeling, more patience than I deserve.” Mike swallowed hard and paused as he thought of how he’d almost lost everything last summer, when the truth about their relationship had come out. He turned his face to the side, toward the waterfall, and pressed his lips together with his eyes squeezed shut as he struggled to maintain his composure. After a few moments, he looked back at Chester, at the encouragement on his face, and took a calming breath before continuing.

“Even before we were together, I was yours... and I am devoted to you in every way. I marry you with no hesitation or doubt, and my commitment to you is absolute. I choose us, but more importantly, I choose you. To stand by your side and sleep in your arms. To sing beside you and to write beside you. To be the joy in your heart and the peace for your soul. To learn with you and grow with you, even as time and life change us both. I promise to laugh with you in good times and struggle alongside you in bad times, even as I try to pull you up. I promise to love you and cherish you, to be loyal to you. I will respect you as a person, my partner, and my equal, knowing that we do not compete, but complement each other in every way.” He looked up, locking onto Chester’s tear filled brown eyes, and declared, “today, I commit my life to you.”

Mike heard sniffles to his side, touched that one of his friends had been moved enough by his words to cry. He quietly folded the paper again and slipped it in his pocket, his eyes never leaving Chester’s as the vocalist reached in his own pocket for the vows he had written. Mike realized his hands, his knees, his entire being was shaking as Chester began to speak. 

With his angel voice so delicate, so sweetly pure, he read his vows to Mike. “Today, surrounded by people who love us, I choose you, Mike, to be my partner. I am proud to be your husband and to join my life with yours. I vow to support you, push you, inspire you, and above all, love you.” He paused, looking up from the paper, catching Mike’s eye for a moment before he looked back down, afraid he’d be too overcome with emotion to finish. “Through the years you have taught me that two people joined together with respect and trust can be far stronger and happier than each could ever be alone. You are the strength I didn’t know I needed.” 

It was Chester’s turn to pause, his gratefulness for Mike’s unwavering support and strength throughout both their friendship and their intimate relationship crashing over him at those words. He couldn’t imagine his life without Mike, didn’t know where he would be today if it weren’t for the emcee, didn’t know if he’d even still be alive. He owed Mike everything. Drawing strength as he looked into Mike’s eyes, he continued, “today, I choose to commit my life to you.” Chester looked up again, smiling, letting those words linger as Mike had done. “I promise to love you for who you are, who you have been, and who you will become. I promise to work hard at our relationship, and to remember that all things between us are rooted in love. I promise to nurture your dreams and help you reach them. I promise to share my whole heart with you, and to remember to show you how deeply I care for you, no matter what challenges come our way. I promise to love you fiercely and _loyally_ for as long as I live… our forever.”

In the silence that followed Mike suddenly heard the waterfall again, the birds, the breeze rustling the palms and ferns and vines, the evidence of living all around him, felt in his beating heart the thrill of living in a world where he had not only met Chester Bennington, had made Chester Bennington his friend, then his lover, but was marrying Chester Bennington. He ached to kiss the man in front of him but it wasn’t the proper time, so he smiled instead, his heart skipping a beat when Chester’s face lit up in return. 

“May I have the rings?” Mike heard Mason ask, and Brad stepped forward to place in the officiant’s hand the two bands Mike had given Chester last Christmas. They both looked at Mason in anticipation, for the ceremony would be drawing to a close once the rings were exchanged, and the moment of public commitment couldn’t come soon enough. Mike felt as though he’d been waiting his entire life for this moment.

“Michael, place this ring on Chester’s fingertip, and repeat after me…”

The black diamonds sparkled in the sunlight as Mike took the ring and Chester placed his hand in Mike’s, and he repeated the words they had chosen.

“I give you this ring as a daily reminder of my love for you. Just as this circle is without end, my love for you is never-ending. With all that I am, with all that I have, I commit my life to you.” He slid the band onto Chester’s finger and they watched together as the thick platinum band covered any trace of the tattoo on that finger, and Chester held his hand up to their friends with pride, wiggling his fingers. 

Mike was grinning ear to ear as Chester was instructed to do the same, taking Mike’s hand in his own and placing the band on his fingertip.

Looking directly into Mike’s eyes, Chester repeated, “I give you this ring as a daily reminder of my love for you. Just as this circle is without end, my love for you is never-ending. With all that I am, with all that I have, I commit my life to you.” 

As Chester slid the band into place, and Mike felt the welcome weight of it on his finger, somewhere off to their right there was a low whistle, followed by some light chuckles. Mike and Chester remained, holding hands, breathlessly waiting for the final words sealing their simple ceremony. Mike looked over expectantly at Mason, savoring his next words.

“May these rings be blessed as a symbol of unity. These two lives are now joined in one unbroken circle. May the vows and promises you have made today be as ever present in your hearts as these rings are on your fingers.” Mason looked at the arc of the remaining members of Linkin Park, their wives, and Josh, and smiled. “And now, to the friends who have come to celebrate this union, I take great pleasure in presenting for the first time... the united couple, Michael Shinoda and Chester Bennington-Shinoda!”

The collective mouths of Linkin Park fell open in astonishment at the proclamation of Chester’s unexpected new last name, but neither Mike nor Chester even glanced their way. Before the last syllable was out of the officiant’s mouth, Chester’s hands were pulling Mike close, and Mike’s hands had found Chester’s face, tenderly stroking his thumbs over his cheeks as he kissed the vocalist deeply, thoroughly... both surrendering themselves into the kiss, completely unaware of everyone around them. It was reminiscent of the time Chester had claimed Mike in the dressing room of one of their shows, and the kiss lasted, and lasted, then as it did now, until Mike finally pulled away, resting his forehead against Chester’s, both of them breathless, as their friends clapped and whistled for them. Their dreams were now their reality. They were married.

Afterwards, they stood with the waterfall as their backdrop, Joe snapping pictures for them, until Chester proclaimed it “time to start the party!” and they all headed off to the restaurant they’d rented out for their dinner reception. Mike had a hell of a time convincing the restaurant owners to allow them to rent out the entire restaurant for just ten people, but when he’d offered four times what they typically charged for such a request during peak tourist time, the owners had happily reconsidered the request. It was a fun evening celebrating the new couple, eating and visiting, even a little bit of dancing happening as the night wore on, and of course, cake. 

“No wedding is complete without cake,” Chester had said, and Mike had made certain that his new husband got what he wanted: a chocolate layered cake with chocolate hazelnut cream, topped with strawberries. 

When they all made it back to the beach house that evening, nobody wasted any time disappearing into their room with their significant other. It had been a highly emotional, exhausting day, and sleep seemed to be on the agenda for almost everyone. Everyone except Mike and Chester, who climbed the stairs to their room and bid everyone goodnight, their hands on each other before the door was even locked behind them. 

“Jesus, Ches, I’ve been thinking about this all evening.” Mike’s voice was low, husky with desire, his lips moving over Chester’s neck, leaving warm, wet kisses in their wake. “I love you, I love you so much…” he pulled Chester close, feeling lightheaded as his husband started to pull at his necktie.

“I love you, too.” Chester loosened the tie enough to pull it over Mike’s head and he started unbuttoning the vest as Mike continued to try to kiss along his skin. “This would go faster if you’d help,” he teased, and Mike chuckled.

“Fair enough.” He unknotted Chester’s tie and the race was on to unbutton and discard all of their husband’s remaining clothing. It wasn’t much of a race, with Chester declaring victory as Mike stood naked, trying to get Chester to step out of his pants. “You totally manipulated that,” he complained lightly as Chester kicked the pants away, grinning.

“Maybe,” he agreed with a wink. “Now… come here,” he whispered, reaching for Mike’s hands. He stepped between Mike’s feet, pressing his body against the emcee and running his hands over his back. They were both already aroused, Mike was kissing his neck again, and Chester willingly allowed Mike to gently push him backward toward the bed between kisses. They dropped onto the sheets, Chester’s hands on Mike’s ass and Mike’s in Chester’s hair, flexing his fingers through the short, dark curls. 

As Chester pulled Mike’s hips into his, Mike gasped, electricity sparking between their bodies. “Oh, Ches… I love how you feel, I love everything about you, do you know that?” Mike pulled his lips away from Chester’s neck to look into his eyes for a moment. 

“I may have heard that somewhere before,” Chester replied casually, squeezing Mike close to him again. As Mike’s eyes closed in ecstasy, Chester asked, his voice more serious, “you know I feel the same, right? I love every little thing about you, Mike. I love the way you smell and taste, the way you feel next to me, your voice… your hands… God, I love your hands,” he said. 

“I may have heard that somewhere before,” Mike repeated with a grin, remembering the night in a far away hotel that Chester had kissed each of his fingertips while declaring his adoration for Mike’s musical talent. He watched hungrily as Chester took one of his hands to his lips, kissing each finger on their wedding night before sucking one into his mouth, causing Mike’s heart rate to skyrocket before he took a calming breath and said, “I want to go slow tonight, Ches… I want to savor every second of this day.”

Nodding, Chester released the finger, kissing the palm of Mike’s hand before he lifted it to stroke over Chester’s hair as their lips met for the first time that night. It was careful, a slow tasting of each other, before Mike slid down to kiss along Chester’s neck, across his collarbone, brushing his lips lightly over the skin to draw goosebumps before he allowed his kisses to warm the same skin. He listened to each moan, each whimper from above, each breathy gasp of his name and willed himself to go slow, to take his time, to cover every inch of his new husband’s body with love. 

As Chester’s breaths grew more rapid and shallow, Mike captured a nipple between his teeth, grazing over the sensitive bud before sucking on it gently and moving on to the other, his forearms bracing his body over Chester’s as he worked. He was making his way down, kissing over Chester’s stomach, when the vocalist pushed up on his elbows and gazed at him. Mike looked up and caught Chester’s eyes. “What is it?” he asked huskily, tilting his chin up to see better.

“Nothing… I just wanted to see your face,” Chester whispered, reaching down to stroke Mike’s cheek as he smiled and dipped his tongue into Chester’s belly button before nipping a series of light bites across his stomach and side. As he reached the enticing rise of his hipbone, Mike sat back on his knees out of Chester’s reach and looked down at his signature adorning the pale skin there. Chester was still watching him as the smile crossed his face and he reached his hand out to touch the tattoo.

“I love this being here so much,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss along the ink. Suddenly Mike wasn’t in the mood to draw this out any longer. He needed to be inside his husband, he needed him more than he could remember ever needing him before. “You’re mine. Mine, Chester,” and he pulled him up, the vocalist’s thighs around his hips, kissing him fiercely as their erections rubbed against each other, and Chester moaned into his mouth as Mike slipped his hands up under his small ass, holding them tightly together. As the kiss twisted and deepened Chester buried his hands in Mike’s hair, tugging the black strands firmly, knowing it would cause his husband to abandon the lazy foreplay in his impatience. Hair pulling was Mike’s kink, and Chester knew this well by now. He heard and felt Mike growl into his mouth, and Chester smiled as Mike broke their kiss, his eyes feverish with desire.

“I want you on your knees,” he managed to get out as he let go and Chester slid back down onto the bed, watching as he scrambled around to hold on to the headboard. “This is not what I had planned for our first night, Ches… but that tattoo and your eyes… Jesus, you know exactly how to drive me crazy.” 

With lube slicked fingers Mike entered Chester with one hand as the other reached around to stroke his dick, dropping kisses along his spine as he stretched and teased his husband until Chester was begging Mike to _hurry_ , not knowing if he should push into the hand behind him or the one in front of him. Spreading lube over himself, Mike drew in a shuddering breath, anxious to consummate their union, admiring Chester’s back and his gorgeous round ass, right in front of him, impatiently waiting for the same thing. As he lined himself up, feeling Chester’s entrance against the head of his dick, he leaned forward and kissed the back of his husband’s neck. “I love you, Ches,” Mike breathed, pushing up into him as he pulled Chester’s hips down, both of them groaning at the sensations vibrating through them.

Perfectly still they held, finally connected, feeling the intimacy, the love, the ever present desire for each other cover over them in waves, then Mike dropped his forehead down to Chester’s back, placing more needy kisses there while Chester adjusted to him. After what felt like forever, he heard Chester’s voice faintly, encouraging him to move, answering him with “I love you, too.”

Despite the hunger, the ball of fire building in the pit of his stomach, Mike tried to go slow, tried to move gently at first, but his restraint was short lived as Chester leaned back into him, changing the angle of Mike’s thrusts and crying out as the pleasure consumed him. Biting his lip, Mike concentrated on Chester, wrapping one hand around his length to stroke in time with his thrusts, then reaching to bite the enticing earlobe in front of him. As soon as Chester felt the teeth on his ear he reached one hand behind him, tangling his fingers in Mike’s hair, instantly causing Mike to grip his hip harder and pull him down faster as Chester pulled on the black strands. 

“Ches… damnit, Chester, you’re gonna make me come too fast,” Mike breathed desperately into his ear, and he felt the release of his hair just in time, pausing for a moment to take a few calming breaths. “You have no idea what you do to me, do you?” he asked while he battled for control.

“Of course I do,” was Chester’s response, and Mike smiled as he thrust experimentally again, testing himself. “Wait… I want you on your back,” he went on, and Mike was only too happy to acquiesce.

As they shifted positions, Chester reached out and brushed his hand over Mike’s only tattoo, the sun with the flames that matched his wrists. Their eyes met, the significance of that tattoo softening Chester’s features as he said, “thank you for this,” leaning forward to kiss Mike gently before he lifted himself up and sank down onto Mike’s waiting erection. He watched as Mike’s eyes squeezed shut and he bit down hard on his bottom lip to stifle the moan that Chester still heard anyway. From that moment forward they both focused on each other, Mike stroking Chester, and Chester riding atop Mike’s hips, until Mike watched Chester come all over his stomach and then lost himself inside his husband in deep, slick thrusts. They weren’t quiet but neither of them cared, staring at each other in blissful euphoria until Chester carefully lifted himself from Mike and collapsed on his stomach on the bed next to him, breathing heavily but looking satisfied. He reached for MIke’s left hand with his left hand, their wedding bands connecting with a soft clink.

They lay in the sweet afterglow, their hands linked together, the heavy weight of their wedding bands new and exhilarating. Mike was about to drift into sleep when he heard Chester suggest a shower, and he knew he’d regret it in the morning if he didn’t clean up. Reluctantly, both of them on trembling legs, he pulled Chester into the shower with him, where they took turns washing away the evidence of their lovemaking in languid strokes, steam billowing in the air around them. 

When their tired bodies hit the bed again, it was easy to spoon together and fall asleep without another word, Mike’s lips drifting over Chester’s hair before he gave in to the weight of his eyelids and fell into a contented sleep, his new husband already dreaming in his arms.

*  
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*  
*  
*

Mike was quick to shut off the alarm on his phone the next morning, then lay very still, holding his breath, until he knew for certain that he hadn’t woken Chester. Carefully sliding out from under the sheets, he reached for his t-shirt and pajama pants, slipping them on silently before stealthily creeping to the door. He breathed a sigh of relief as he made it downstairs and into the kitchen without anyone waking.

It didn’t take long for him to make two mugs of coffee, and he carried them back upstairs as quietly as he’d come down, back to the bedroom where his husband was sleeping. _Husband. I can’t believe it. Chester Bennington-Shinoda. My husband._

The moon was low in the sky and it was so dark Mike was afraid he’d spill their coffee as he crept back into the room, but he made it over to the bedside table without incident and set both mugs down before turning on the lamp and crawling back into the bed. Chester’s naked warm backside was beckoning him. Getting him out of bed before sunrise would be no easy feat, which was why he didn’t try often. 

“Ches?” he whispered, nuzzling the soft place behind his husband’s ear where his neck and jaw met. “Chester?”

“No.” 

His lips tipped in an amused smile, Mike slid his arm around Chester’s stomach, softly petting over the vocalist’s abs. “Chester… Ches… I want you to come with me.”

“Unnghhhhhh… it‘s dark outside,” Chester whined, his face turning into the pillow.

_Some things will never change,_ Mike thought. _Chester has always been impossible in the mornings._ “C’mon, Ches,” he plead quietly. “I want to do this before the others wake up.” 

“Unnghh… do what?” More whining. 

“Just come on… I made you coffee,” Mike tried.

“So sleepy,” was the only response.

“Ches, I’ll let you take a nap later. Please, get out of bed with me.” Bargaining was his last card to play, and Mike hoped it would work as he continued to feel over the warm skin under his fingertips.

Chester finally turned over, a scowl on his face. “This is not how I wanted to wake up the first day of our married life, Mikey,” he complained. “I’m sleepy. And sore,” he added petulantly.

Mike couldn’t contain his grin. “Well, I’ll make it up to you later,” he promised. “Here, put your pajama pants on and come with me. It will be worth it, I swear.” He watched as Chester fumbled his glasses onto his face, his sleepy eyes trying to focus on the pants in Mike’s hand.

“It’s not worth it if I have to put on clothes,” he grumbled as Mike’s smile grew exponentially.

As soon as the pants were on, Mike thrust coffee into Chester’s left hand and grabbed his right, leading him to the door that opened onto the lanai. Chester didn’t say a word as they descended the steps in the soft moonlight, their bare feet hitting the cool sand as they walked the path that led to the beach. Mike remembered the last time they’d walked this path in the semi-darkness, last November when they’d vacationed here, and the way he’d made love to Chester on the very same beach. He squeezed Chester’s hand and got a soft response.

“It was amazing, wasn’t it?” Chester murmured before he took another sip of coffee, and Mike marvelled that they were each thinking the same thing, though he knew it shouldn’t shock him anymore. They knew each other thoroughly.

They sat down on the sand, their bodies touching, inches from the waves lapping gently on the shore. For a few moments they both sipped from their coffee, listening to the silence and the waves, before Chester felt for Mike’s hand and linked their fingers together. “What are we doing out here in the dark, Mikey?” he asked, his voice still gravelly from sleep.

Mike inhaled deeply, the scent of the ocean and the flowering plants from the garden behind them intoxicating. He looked out over the waves, at the horizon where the very first rays of light were starting to break the sky and the ocean into two separate parts, before he looked at Chester, trying to see him in the faint light. “I wanted to watch the sunrise together on our first day of being married... our new beginning… the first day of our forever.”

He felt Chester’s nose bump into his cheek and heard the breathy chuckle as his husband tried and failed to find his lips in the dark. Turning slightly, Mike brushed his lips against Chester’s and felt the parting of warm lips, the tip of Chester’s tongue tracing his bottom lip, the taste of coffee as they kissed softly, their lips and tongues gentle, the sound of their breathing and the ocean in their ears. By the time the kiss ended, the rays of light were brighter, the light on the horizon turning the sky a delicate pink, the clouds tangerine and gold and purple, the ocean violet near the sun and black near the shore.

“It’s beautiful,” Chester breathed, but Mike was looking only at him.

“Yes, Ches… you’re beautiful,” Mike whispered, his face lit with the soft warm amber glow of the far away sun. “And you’re mine.”

With his eyes toward the sunrise, Chester whispered back, “forever.”

**_fin_ **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This story started with no plan, way back before I went to LA for the tribute concert. I had no idea it would be received as well as it has been. 
> 
> Thank you ALL for every comment you’ve left. I appreciate them more than you could ever know and I’m grateful you enjoyed this journey with me!
> 
> I'd love to hear from you now that it's over, either with a comment here or an email (lpfan503@outlook.com)
> 
> The next installment of this saga will be a sequel-prequel titled _Secrets_ so be on the lookout for when I finally get enough of it planned to start writing. Much love to you all!


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